Every Other Time
by Dove and Thalia
Summary: When a so very anti demure Asian girl and a snarky Slytherin Quidditch player meet, there's bound to be chaos and hilarity. Of course, as Su Li and Cassius Warrington both glory in chaos, this should be a good thing... shouldn't it?
1. Bad Reputation

~*Every Other Time*~

Chapter One: Bad Reputation

Dove: We're incorrigible.  I so know.  But… there are _so_ many Quidditch players, most of them minor characters, and we know what to do with them so much better than… well… anyone, actually… Anyway, these two aren't nearly as cute as Roger and Cho… they make Roger and Cho's sulks look angelic on the best of days… yes, folks.  We did it at last.  Cassius Warrington and Su Li.  Merlin have mercy on us.  _Someone must._

Thalia: All hail the snarkiness! All hail discord, devilishness and other manners of evil! This fic promises to be fun... and after all, Dove and I _had to adopt a few more pet characters... you know this, don't you? *glomps Warrington* I hope you enjoy reading this as much as we do writing it!_

Disclaimer: I can't say we own Harry Potter.  In fact I'd say it owns us.

_"I don't give a damn_

_'Bout my reputation_

_I've never been afraid of any deviation_

_An' I don't really care_

_If ya think I'm strange_

_I ain't gonna change_

_An' I'm never gonna care_

_'Bout my bad reputation…"_

-Joan Jett, "Bad Reputation"

"Badge, shiny and pinned securely, check. Robes, clean and unwrinkled, check. Shoes, polished and unscuffed, check. Hair, clean and neat, check. Smirk, infuriating and smarmy, check." The mirror in Cassius Warrington's room had been charmed when the mirror-maker had been a bit tipsy, and had then sat in the shop, no one willing to buy it, because of how sarcastic it was.

But then, Cassius Warrington enjoyed sarcasm. His mother often remarked that the "bloody mirror" and her son were over-fond of mouthing back and forth to each other, and it was unbecoming.

Cassius... found it all very amusing.

He turned away from the mirror, all six-feet-two-inches of darkly handsome, smirking seventh year Slytherin Chaser, and sauntered out of the room, his entire bearing full of assurance and snarky good humour.

It was his final year at Hogwarts... and he had been named Head Boy.

Perhaps Dumbledore was having one of his madder moments... but whatever the case, he didn't care over-much.

It promised to be an interesting year.

With these thoughts in mind, he picked up his school list and a pinch of floo powder. "Diagon Alley!" he called out as he threw the sparkling powder into the fireplace.

"Enjoy yourself, you swarthy git!" the mirror called. Cassius sniggered as he stepped into the green fire and disappeared.

***

            "Su-Yu!  What have you _done_ to yourself!?"  That was the extent of Yan-Chun Li's English before she began jabbering at her daughter in rapid and highly hysterical Chinese, which was really not so different from any other day when Su got one of her infamous "ideas" into her head.

            For her part, the minute girl stood and waited out her mother's sputtering before patting her very blonde hair, which had been very black (and in her opinion very boring) just that morning and saying with a carefree expression, "It suits me, don't you think?"

            Her mother obviously didn't share this opinion.

            As for Su, well, she wouldn't have dared something of the sort if her father was home; he didn't hold with half as much of her "nonsense" as her mother did, simply because the woman realized the hard truth that her daughter had been impossible to control since the tender age of eight.  Fortunately, Su's father was not home often enough to hinder her in anything she _really_ wanted to do, and her mother generally threw a fit and then gave up.  "It's not charmed, it's bleached," she said.  "You can _not turn it back, and I like it."  Her mother stared in horror at the cap of short hair framing her daughter's delicately proportioned Chinese face, obviously seeing her nightmares made flesh.  She seemed to have run out of words._

            "I'm going to buy my books today," Su said, choosing to ignore her parent's obvious rage.  She'd have enough to deal with when her father got home.  If he noticed.  "Would you like to come with me, or may I just take the money?"

            Yan-Chun glared.  "I will not be seen with you looking like… _that_," she said darkly.  "The money's where it's always been."

            Su shrugged; she had expected nothing else, actually.  "I'll be home for dinner," she said, walking into the living room to pull money from the magical safe behind her father's ancient and battered book of Confucian sayings.  She poked her head back in the kitchen, ignored her mother's wince, repeated, "the hair is staying," and went to the fireplace, tossing floo powder into the flames and smoothing her cheerfully turquoise robes before calling out "Diagon Alley!" and stepping into the emerald-green flames with a bit of a smile on her face.  Piece of cake, really.

***

            Restrictions on working magic outside of school or no, Cassius Warrington blithely shrunk his books and other purchases into pocket-size as he walked out of Flourish and Blotts. He would be eighteen in a few months, he wasn't doing anything bad, and moreover, he had charmed the cashier into letting him borrow her wand to do it. No harm done whatsoever.

Tucking his significantly smaller and lighter school supplies into a pocket, he passed by Ollivander's Wand Shop, the Magical Menagerie and the Apothecary, and turned at a fork in the road. Walking down the slippery stone steps, he entered the darker, much-less-crowded and hushed world of Knockturn Alley.

The people who frequented this locale were generally of two categories: the sleazy, and the sinister. There were witches and wizards, warlocks and hags in rather ragged robes, their faces hardened and dirty, and there were also wealthy, dark-robed wizarding plutocrats who dabbled in (or sometimes actively practiced) the Dark Arts. Cassius Warrington, though strictly not of either group, blended in well enough as he strode confidently down the alleyway, evidently quite familiar with the surroundings and shops.

He stopped at a darkened little shop bearing the name of 'Draughts and Distillery', and, after throwing a sickle into the outstretched, grimy hand of a disheveled old crone crouched at the door, marched in.

Things were cheaper here if one knew where to look, after all. And he had every intention of buying a deluxe broomstick servicing kit later on...

A dozen ounces of crushed sunstone, two bezoars, six Antipodean Opaleye dragon eggshells, three rattlesnake fangs, a string of Jobberknoll feathers and a vial of bloodroot extract later, he strode out of the Knockturn Alley shop, blinked, and then stopped dead in his tracks.

Who... the _devil... was __that?_

She was small, small enough to be a first or second year student, and he didn't recall seeing her before.  He thought he would have remembered, otherwise.  Her hair was very nearly as blonde as Malfoy's and cut just as short, but her face was much more reminiscent of Chang, that Ravenclaw Seeker.  The tilted eyes certainly had never come with that hair.  Curiously, it suited her.  Her robes were a bright turquoise, causing for more than one odd look in her direction by the other patrons of Knockturn Alley.  She was staring with unabashed interest into the dirty glass of the display of a shop whose sign was so covered with dirt he couldn't make it out.  The things inside the display, though, gave him a fair idea of what sort of shop it was.

A curious sort of girl, certainly not the kind to frequent Knockturn or to shop here if she did, but she had parcels in her arms.   Maybe she had bought them in Diagon Alley; he couldn't imagine her actually going into that shop and purchasing anything.  As if to prove him wrong, she strode determinedly up the rickety steps.  The man who had been leaning in the door caught on to her robes and leered at her in a way that reminded that not everyone in Knockturn Alley would care that they were preying on a kid.  Some seemed to seek kids out, actually.

With a muttered curse and a snarl on his face, Warrington hurried over as quickly as he could.  Crazy though she undoubtedly was, he couldn't let a kid be dragged off from under his nose.  Maybe she had wandered off from her parents.  That was how he found himself standing on the steps and grabbing the arm of the girl, who looked remarkably placid for someone who had been just about to be assaulted.  He towered a good half a foot over the man, and at least twice that over the kid.  "She's with me," he said coolly.

The man muttered, decided he didn't want to face the younger man's superior height, and skulked off.  The girl, for her part, forcibly yanked her arm from his grip, smacked him rather hard upside the head with her wand (having to stand on her tiptoes and reach hard to do so), and said, "I was handling it."

Warrington shrugged what he hoped was nonchalantly and said dryly, "You can go with him, I suppose, but I'm better-looking and less likely to eat you for lunch."

"By whose standards?" she said, raising one eyebrow in question.  "You may be cleaner, but I'd in no way call you handsome."

"How _very sad, I'm just heartbroken at your censure," he replied in a mock-tragic voice, side-stepping another blow from the tiny girl. "But what the devil are you doing in a place like this, kid?" Crossing his arms, he peered down at her with eyebrows raised, smirking very slightly. "This isn't exactly the friendliest or safest of neighborhoods... and if it's not already apparent, some folk here might want to give you an unpleasant time." He paused, before continuing silkily, "And you wouldn't want __that, would you?"_

"Yes, so please stop bothering me," the girl rolled her dark eyes. "I'm just minding my own business. You should do the same, you know."

"Minding your own _business?_" He laughed openly at that. "And what sort of business would _you_ have, poking about here on Knockturn Alley? It's not quite the sort of neighborhood the likes of you would inhabit."

"And how would you know that?" she retorted. He gave her a pointed look, then glanced at the other, shadowy figures skulking around the alley, and she sighed in a somewhat desolate manner. "I don't look scary enough, do I?"

Warrington snerked, "Indeed... work on a frightening Death Glare and perhaps wear darker clothing? In any case, it's probably best if you go and return to Diagon Alley or something; your parents will be worried sick." The last part was said somewhat mockingly, and the girl wrinkled her nose.

"Now, it's none of your business if what I do is none of _my_ business because my business is not your business... so leave me to my business and attend to your own business!"

"Try to say that five times fast," Warrington said dryly, before schooling his face into a somewhat stern expression. "Now, for your own sake, it would be best if you returned to Diagon Alley." He did not ask her. After all, this was a simple enough request... and questions left room for argument. She could leave... or he could carry her out. It wasn't as if the inhabitants of Knockturn Alley would pay any mind to a man carrying off a young girl.

It would be his good deed of the... well, insert random long amount of time.

For her part, Su was rather angry, and faintly amused.  She knew who he was, of course.  She hadn't sat on the reserve bench for Ravenclaw for the past two years for nothing.  Cassius Warrington, Slytherin Chaser, seventh year.  And… there was the badge.  Wince.  Head Boy.  That just figured.  "I came by myself, and I can find my way out," she said.  "Thanks just the same."  Her sense of direction was hopeless, but she wasn't about to let this Slytherin idiot drag her by the hand like some little kid.  She wished again she was taller.  She wished for her Prefect badge.  She wished… damn, that was a good smirk.  Why couldn't _she_ smirk like that?  She could stand for an hour before the mirror and work on it, and on him it came naturally.

Stupid Slytherin.

Warrington shook his head slightly.  "Which way's Diagon Alley?" he asked.

She barely kept herself from shrugging.  Her sense of direction really was terrible.  "That way," she said, pointing right.  She _thought it was that way._

Warrington chuckled, leaned over, picked her up like a sack of potatoes and headed left.

She might have struggled, but that would hardly be dignified, so she just seethed.  "I am going to _kill you," she informed him._

"Thanks for the kind thoughts," he said, obviously not the least bit concerned.  "You might have done it in Knockturn, you know.  Back where no one would see.  Or care."

So, he thought he was saving her, did he?  Su sighed and kept silent.  She had told Padma and Mandy that she _could_ get into Knockturn Alley, and get out again, without anyone the wiser.  She had been going to buy a couple of skulls to present to them as proof.  Not Lisa; Lisa would faint if she so much as saw a skull.  The fifth year Ravenclaw girls were none of them the type to try it, except maybe Su.  She was as bad as the Weasley twins, Lisa maintained.  Su always said there was a very large difference: she did not get caught.

And this… was just humiliating.

She was a light little thing, and though she didn't struggle, he could make out the resentment in her voice when she sweetly informed him that she was going to kill him.  However, it must be remembered that while other houses might feel threatened or offended by Death Threats, the Slytherin mentality was somewhat different. And so, as he should, he thanked her as graciously as he could, and continued carrying her out of Knockturn Alley.

Within minutes, he was striding back up the steps that led out of Knockturn, the girl still hanging half over his shoulder. A few people paused to stare, but Cassius Warrington merely gave them a sneer, and they passed on. Oh, it was good to be a Slytherin.

Having reached the busy, bustling part of Diagon Alley once again, he came to a stop in front of Gringotts and set the girl down on the ground. She glared up at him with as much menace as she could muster... but he just laughed.

"Cute, kid... but you're still not scaring me. Now, be good," he admonished, smirking down at her. Feeling benevolent, he reached down and gave her blonde head a light, jovial sort of pat, before turning on his heel and walking away without another word. A few moments later, he'd disappeared into Quality Quidditch Supplies.

Su stood in the middle of the throng of cheerfully conversing witches and wizards, for once struck perfectly speechless.  The _nerve of that… that… "Swarthy Slytherin git," she muttered under her breath.  "If he thinks he's going to treat me like that…"_

She stalked off, anyway, in what she thought was the direction of the public floo station.  No one treated Su Li that way, and survived, anyway.  People only made the mistake of considering her a cute and harmless kid once.  The expression on her face certainly didn't lend itself well to the idea of the sweet little child Warrington had obviously considered her.  People moved out of her way.

***

            It was a gray and dreary sort of day when the Hogwarts express pulled out of King's Cross Station, full of children, some laughing, some not.  There was a somber sort of mood among the Hufflepuffs in particular.  In the compartment holding Cho Chang, Sarah Fawcett, Mandy Brocklehurst, Padma Patil, and Su Li, the atmosphere was certainly merry.  Cho and Su both wore Prefect badges, and after the perfunctory jokes about overachieving Asians, the girls settled down with the all-important business of catching up their summers.

            Cho had been to China, Sarah to America, and Padma to India.  Mandy admitted ruefully that she had not left her sleepy village and had gathered eggs and milked cows, and Su shrugged and said she hadn't gone from London.  "I did, however, go to Knockturn Alley last week," she said, with an air of great satisfaction.

            This, naturally, prompted all sorts of questions as to her sanity, which she took as her due, only murmuring "thank you" once or twice.  She did, however, pester Cho, the new Quidditch captain, on details on the Slytherin team, most particularly on Cassius Warrington.

            This prompted more questions, including a laughing, "Why do you want to know, Su?  The last time you grilled someone about a person, that person's life ended up hell in short order," from Padma.

            "He's a Slytherin," Su said lightly.  "Even if I was planning on tormenting him-none of you can prove I did that, by the way-why should you care?"

            "They might say you're trying to sabotage Quidditch," Cho said with a laugh.  "You _are_ on the team this year."

            "If there is no proof, the point remains moot," Su said, snuggling into her warm cloak with a perfectly angelic expression on her face and biting into a Peppermint Pasty.

            "She positively gives me shivers when her face goes like that," was the contribution of Sarah Fawcett.  "I never quite know which way I should run."

***

            Meanwhile, in another compartment a short distance from that of the Ravenclaw girls, several members of the Slytherin Quidditch team sat, lounging around. Draco Malfoy, Cassius Warrington, Alexander Montague and Kevin Bole shared the compartment, the former two wearing their badges and watching the latter two engaging in a game of Exploding Snap. Draco had a rather sulky look on his pale face.

            "What's the matter Malfoy?" Warrington asked his teammate in a genial manner. "Come on, you _knew that Granger would be a Prefect. Please don't say you're still pouting over that. Save that face for your mother, will you?"_

            Malfoy muttered something about bloody reckless girls bumping into him during school shopping, and the Head Boy raised an eyebrow. "Oh really? You as well? Goodness, blondie really doesn't stop, does she?"

            "What? What about me? I'm not a 'she'!" Malfoy snapped.

            "I wasn't talking about you... surprising though that might be. I ran into a little blonde girl in Knockturn Alley when getting Potions ingredients. Are you saying that your 'little reckless girl' wasn't this one? Blimey, what are they feeding them these days?"

            "Oh no..." Draco snapped, "I've no idea what little blonde girl you're talking about. I bumped into Ron Weasel's sister at Flourish and Blotts, and the bloody kid _sneered_ at me when I called her 'Weaslette'." The Slytherin Seeker looked extremely put-out by this, and Warrington let out a snort of laughter.

            "And this is 'reckless'... how?" Warrington sniggered. By now, the other two were listening quite avidly as well. Draco scowled, and muttered something incoherent under his breath.

            "Pardon?"

            "I said, she's a _Weasley!_ She's not _supposed_ to... to act like... a Slytherin!" Malfoy snarled, his face filled with aggravation and an almost wary look. The other occupants of the compartment burst into raucous laughter.

            "Well then... this ought to be interesting," Montague sniggered, "She must have picked it up from _you,_ Malfoy."

            "Nothing of the sort! I've never looked at her!" Draco retorted, then abruptly changed the subject. "And who did you run into, Warrington? Blonde kid... do you know her?"

            "Haven't the foggiest," Warrington said easily. "Rather small, Asian... except for the hair. Hates me now, since I made her leave Knockturn Alley without giving her much a say in the matter."

"Death threats?" Bole asked, smirking.

"Of course," Warrington grinned in a very cocky way.

"Congratulations, man."

"Why, thank you."

***

            Upon arriving at the school, Cassius was pulled aside along with Angelina Johnson by a harried-looking Professor McGonagall, who was mumbling about seventh years, explosions, and never growing up.  Johnson was scowling darkly.  Warrington took this to mean the infamous Gryffindor Beaters and wisely didn't comment in front of the professor.  He would have plenty of time to tease Johnson later, anyway.  McGonagall sighed and handed over the list of Prefects as well as the schedule of Prefect meetings.  "You have five minutes to be in the Great Hall," she said curtly, and swept off.

            "Hermione," Johnson said with a look of immense satisfaction, studying the list.  "She'll keep the rest in… oh dear."  She sighed.  "Unless she and Malfoy go for each other's throats at first opportunity."

            "Malfoy was making noises about that," Warrington said unconcernedly.

            "Great," Johnson said.  "Just brilliant."

            "I thought so," Warrington said.  "Entertaining, anyway."  She glared at him, and he unfurled his own list to study it.  He already knew the Prefects for sixth year, of course, but the fifth years… well, he had known about Malfoy, and Granger was no shock.  He thought he might know Finch-Fletchley, too; hadn't that been one of those attacked by the basilisk a few years ago?  The Ravenclaw Prefect, though… "Li?  Who's she?"

            Johnson shrugged.  "She's rather quiet; keeps to her house mostly.  She was Quidditch reserves last year, though.  Demure little Chinese girl."

            "Ah," Warrington said confidently, striding into the Great Hall.  "No problem then."


	2. Not Such an Innocent Girl

~*Every Other Time*~

Chapter Two: Not Such an Innocent Girl

Thalia: Tee-hee... when we have two incorrigible schemers head to head... it's a great show indeed! The angelic little girl... not! There is a Prefect meeting, snark galore, and of course, D/G-pluggieness! All hail chaos!

Dove: Can I just say it's quite amusing what our fics do to us?  Like addicting us to a song by a former Spice Girl.  Which is bloody _catchy_.  Heh.  Anyway, enjoy Su's positively two-faced existence and Warrington trying to convince people she's not a little angel… and failing, for the most part.  Well, and our trademark of Summoning Charms to yank people over returns…

Diclaimer: When I, Thalia, own Warrington, I will no longer write fanfiction, as I will have *cough* other things to do with my spare time.

_"You think I'm the fragile one_

_One slip, the damage done_

_I'm not made of china_

_I'm not made of glass_

_Would it shatter your illusions if this angel had a past?_

_If you touch me I won't break_

_Don't think of me that way_

_I'm not such an innocent girl_

_Don't wrap me up in cotton wool_

_Upon a pedestal_

_I'm not such an innocent girl_

_I'm not such an innocent…"_

-Victoria Beckham, "Not Such an Innocent Girl"

The first day of the term was also the day of the first Prefect meeting. After finishing the small amount of homework that had been assigned that day, Cassius Warrington, along with sixth year Prefect Susannah Caligo and a still-sullen Draco Malfoy walked out of the Dungeons and made their way towards the Prefects' office.

The Gryffindor Prefects were already there and waiting. Head Girl Angelina Johnson was looking rather harried, and Richard Maechin, the 6th year Prefect, was trying to calm her down and assure her that no one had _seen Fred Weasley throw that wet-start firework into Professor Snape's cauldron, despite the fact that everyone had witnessed the results. Hermione Granger merely looked excited at the prospect of being a Prefect._

However, Hermione's cheerful expression vanished like smoke as soon as Warrington and the other Slytherins had appeared, and she downright scowled at Malfoy. The blond boy, for his part, gave her a derisive sneer. Angelina frowned. Cassius smirked.

_This should prove interesting..._

Now they just had to wait for the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws to arrive.

As if on cue, the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw delegations arrived from opposite directions. Warrington smirked slightly to himself as Ravenclaw seventh year Zach Turpin and Hufflepuff seventh year Angela Branstone, both blushing and smiling inanely, tried to hug each other without arousing the notice of everyone else. Needless to say, everyone noticed anyway. Although that might have had something to do with Warrington's deliberate throat-clearing. Angelina gave him an exasperated look, which he merely grinned at.

All right... now, he pretty much knew everyone, but... there was one more Ravenclaw Prefect, some demure little Chinese girl. Well, Turpin had arrived before the other Ravenclaw Prefects... and then Chang... and... Warrington blinked. Then blinked again. A familiar mop of blonde hair popped up under his vision.

Su Li looked up and grinned charmingly at all the others assembled, and there was a silver badge on her robes.

Bloody hell, _she was a Prefect?! Any suspicions that he'd had that Dumbledore had been inhaling random potions fumes (when he had been informed that he was appointed Head Boy) were now quite fully confirmed._

"Say, Warrington," Zach said.  He half-ignored him to stare incredulously at Su.  She _did look demure.  It suited her better than that ridiculous little sneer that she had tried.  And he didn't think it was particularly… genuine.  "I heard some disturbing things about you carrying a little girl off in Knockturn Alley.  Is everything… all right?"_

Li, damn her, didn't so much as move a muscle.  And was looking just a little lower than straight ahead, giving her the appearance of meekness.  Everyone seemed to _believe this.  "Just fine," he managed.  "No lasting effects."_

Su looked up, and while her face continued with that terrifyingly submissive expression, her eyes sparkled.  "My," she said softly.  "I had heard some rumors to that effect.  It was all over the train.  Well, I am sure you are a lovely person, whatever they're saying."  She put out her hand, looking almost uncertain if it weren't for those eyes.  Cho looked wildly amused, but the rest indulgent.  "I am Su Li.  I'm a fifth year.  Prefect."  She smiled tremulously.  "I am pleased to meet you."

He didn't quite believe this, but he shook that little hand, managed a "My pleasure," and they all went inside the office.  On his way, he yanked on Angelina's sleeve.  "Demure?  Quiet?" he hissed.  "That kid's a hellion."

The Head Girl looked at him very oddly.  "She's never been anything less than angelic.  Sometimes, you forget she's there."

Cho, overhearing this, seemed to suddenly have a problem not coughing.

"Like hell," Warrington said.

Angelina gave him a 'Merlin-are-you-being-an-antisocial-Slytherin-bastard?!' look that he pointedly ignored, and after narrowing his eyes cautiously at Su Li, Warrington addressed the other Prefects. "All right. Now that everyone's present and accounted for... we're supposed to set the password for the Prefect's office. Any ideas?"

The others shrugged, and Su Li raised a tiny hand. Cautiously, Warrington turned to look at the younger girl. "Yes?"

"Xiao li cang dao," Su said something in Chinese with a beatific little smile on her face. Warrington blinked, and Cho Chang spluttered, quickly hiding her twitching mouth behind a hand.

"What... does that mean?"

Cho muttered quietly, "It literally translates to 'a smile that hides a knife'."

Warrington was not sure how to take this, but at last decided on the light, devil-may-care sort of attitude that he was sure would get under her skin.  "Attractive as that thought is, I'm afraid only you and Chang would be able to get in here then," he said.

Su simply smiled and shrugged a tiny little shrug.  "Thank you for considering my suggestion," she said gravely.

"Janus," Zachary Turpin spoke up.  "The two-faced god.  That amounts to roughly the same thing, doesn't it?  And it's pronounceable."

"Good thinking, Turpin," Angelina smiled.  "I'll take that."

Su's smile was blinding in its brilliance.  "It's perfect."

"Right then, next we will discuss tutoring schedules…"  Angelina said, pulling out a sheet of parchment.  "I have all the core classes listed here.  If two of us will sign up for each, we should be able to get a good system set up to help those who need something extra before their exams…"

It was about half an hour later when the meeting drew to a close.  Everyone filtered out of the office, making plans for next week and talking about Quidditch and the new Defense professor, who was beautiful, French, and female.  Among many surprises was Cho Chang, who had hated Fleur with a passion the year before, to say that she was sure she would do a lovely job, no anger on her face at all.  Things changed.

As Warrington and Angelina veered off towards the Head Boy and Girl apartments, he gave her a sideways look.  "You're telling me you believe that innocent act?" he asked.

"Oh honestly," Angelina said, more than a little exasperated.  "She seems so sweet!"

"You Gryffindors _would_ be so very idealistic about human nature..."

Angelina glared.

He only laughed.  "Well then... now that the business portion of this evening seems to be over..." Warrington paused at the Head Student apartment, and smirked at Angelina. "What exactly _did the Weasley twins do this time? What was it... throw something into Snape's cauldron? How many things were blown up?"_

Angelina huffed a bit and turned to the painting of a lady and a unicorn, "_Carpe Diem," she said stiffly. The portrait opened, and Warrington followed the Gryffindor girl in, smirking for the mere reason that it brassed off Angelina to no end._

"Well? I'm really quite curious... what exactly did they throw? A wet-start? What did the others say? How many points did Snape deduct? Did his face turn purple or green?"

Angelina whirled around, facing the infuriating Head Boy. Of all the obnoxious, aggravating... _Why did he get elected Head Boy? What was the _matter _with the teachers? What did she do to deserve this?! "I have to put up with you all year, don't I..." she said in a wooden voice._

"Yep," he replied cheerfully. "Should be fun. For me, at least."

"Why me?" Angelina wailed, wringing her hands. He sniggered, and she glared at him for a few moments before her eyes took on a hard glint. "Oh... _whatever_ did Zach mean, talking about you carrying off some girl in Knockturn Alley, Warrington? Care to explain yourself?"

Warrington rolled his eyes, the picture of Su Li's beatifically smiling face flashing in his mind. "Oh... _that_. I was at a Potions supply store... and when I left, there was this _seemingly innocent little girl who looked about twelve who was poking about a Dark Arts shop. I just carried her off because otherwise she would have been carried off by someone uglier than me."_

Angelina spluttered, staring at him. "What?! What did you _do to her?"_

He gave a snort, "I offered her as a virgin sacrifice to the Dark Lord, of course," he snapped sarcastically. Bloody hell, what did Johnson _think he did to her? He wasn't about to go and assault some kid... there were other ways to spend his spare time..._

Angelina, however, did not seem to understand this, and reached up, hitting him upside the head. "You're such a _prat_..."

"Thank you," he answered dryly, "and let me assure you... had I really offered her as a virgin sacrifice to the Dark Lord, I would have done humanity a much greater benefit." Saying so, he turned around and walked off to his personal quarters.

***

            The evening of September third, Su made her way down to the common room with Potions textbook in hand.  The cozy, blue room was comfortably familiar.  There were pies on the table between two velvet couches; no surprise.  Some of the third year girls seemed to be merrily consuming them.  Su stopped by that table, picked up a slice of apple pie, and plopped down on one of the couches next to Terry Boot, who was staring at his Charms book with a terrifyingly intent expression.  "You can't set that on fire unless you pick up your wand, you know," she said.  "Unless you're a veela.  _Are_ you a veela?  I didn't _think you were."_

            Terry sent her an all-suffering look, but gave up and smiled, his rather plain face quite attractive with that wide, boyish smile.  "I'm afraid I've missed that particular disease."  He ruffled her hair.  "You, however, seem to be doing a fair imitation of one.  What's this about?"

            "It hacked off my mother," she said cheerfully.

            "Ah."  Terry looked over to a group of first year girls, who were laughing and giggling over their History of magic texts.  Somehow, Su doubted they were giggling at anything the books had to say.  They looked toward the two of them, and the giggles doubled in volume.  "Oh, wonderful.  Next thing you know, everyone thinks we're a couple," he grumbled.

            "Is that so terrible?" Su asked with a mischievous glint in her eyes.

            "You'd _kill_ me," Terry replied.

            Su giggled.  "Very likely."

            "Taking you to the Yule Ball last year was Gryffindor foolishness.  Or momentary insanity."

            With another laugh, Su opened her Potions text and began flipping through to find the assigned chapter.  "It was a logical solution to the fact that everyone who knew me well enough to ask was and is petrified of me, and that you didn't have anyone you wanted to go with," she said calmly.  "I'm very fond of logic."

            Terry laughed, yanked the fork from her hand, and stuffed a bite of pie into his mouth.  Cho Chang was down with the young girls now, seemingly helping them with their assignments, and keeping the giggling down.  Su meant to ask her just why she looked so radiant lately.  The Hufflepuffs were positively depressed, all of them, and it seemed she should be too.  Instead, she was smiling.

            "Problems with Charms?" Su asked a few minutes later, watching Terry nearly heave his text across the room into the huge fireplace.  "I'm tutoring Charms starting next week.  I can help, if you like."

            "You and who else?" Terry wanted to know.

            Su's smile grew a tiny bit and her eyes sparkled.  "Cassius Warrington," she said with relish.

            "That look on your face… really scares me."  Terry moved away a few inches on the couch.

            Su laughed, plopped her head in his lap, and grinned widely.  "I've been getting a lot of that lately."

***

Meanwhile, in the Slytherin Common Room, Cassius Warrington was blithely flipping through a copy of _A Chaser's Guide to Professional Quidditch_, sprawled on one of the numerous forest green couches. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Draco Malfoy fidgeting as the latter tried to concentrate on some Potions homework.

"You know, Malfoy, if you have a burr in your knickers, you should do something about it rather than sit there in discomfort," the Head Boy said blandly. Draco scowled.

"Shagging Millicent Bulstrode is _not an option."_

"Did I say that?" Cassius set his book down and sniggered, eyes glinting in amusement, "I meant... if you felt restless, you could always go and practice your flying or something..."

"Good God, it's the bloody beginning of the year... you're going to turn out worse than Flint," Draco muttered. "Speaking of which... who the hell are we going to have for the third Chaser this year? And we need a new Keeper as well, now that Thornton is gone... any ideas?"

"Hasn't your friend Zabini been on the reserve bench for the last two years?" Alexander Montague piped up from where he was sitting next to Susannah Caligo, the couple bent over a rather large Arithmancy tome.

Draco shrugged. "I suppose... but Keeper?"

"Quidditch practice starts in a week," Warrington answered calmly, scribbling something on a piece of parchment, then lazily attaching it to the common room's bulletin board with a flick of his wand. "There. Whoever wishes to try out... can do so. Meanwhile... why are you acting twitchy as Filch's cat, Malfoy?"

The blond boy muttered something incomprehensible about ugly female giants and bloody redheads. Warrington stared.

"The Weasley twins and Hagrid's mother?! _Please_... no... no... we... just won't go there... at all..." However, for the record, all of this was said with a jesting glint in his eyes.

The Slytherins burst into raucous laughter, and Malfoy scowled even further. Warrington sniggered, "Exactly what is the matter?"

"Bulstrode wants to shag me. Weaslette is... sassing at me in the hallway. Just like she did in Diagon Alley. Bah... bloody females..." Draco's terse statements disintegrated into random mutterings of discontent.

"Awww... he's getting the attention of two girls... and he doesn't know what to do about it," Warrington chuckled, grinning widely.

"I can't say I blame him," Montague spoke up again. "I don't think I would appreciate that sort of attention from those parties."

"Not to mention, Susannah over there would cast a Permanent Impotence Spell upon you if you did, Montague," Kevin Bole winked at the girl in question, who merely raised a blonde eyebrow.

"Well... perhaps eventually you will figure it out," Warrington said to Malfoy in a condescending, almost paternal manner. "Say, when are you tutoring?"

"I'm in charge of Potions with Branstone, you git... right before you. And Li." Now it was the blond boy's turn to smirk smugly, "Why were you nearly having conniptions over that little Ravenclaw, anyway?"

"Indeed," Susannah chimed in curiously.  "She seems quite harmless."

"Exactly. She _seems quite harmless."_

***

            Su was hurrying to the first Charms tutoring session, her mind rushing at a hundred miles per hour, half with lesson plans and half with ways to torment Cassius Warrington.  Covertly, of course.  Hurrying down the stairs to the entrance hall from another direction was a head of red hair, carrying an alarming stack of books.  A Weasley, the youngest, by that hair.  They headed in the same direction.  She was probably coming for the tutoring.

            The Potions session was just getting out.  Draco Malfoy sauntered out, but his self-satisfied smirk faded into a fierce scowl when he saw the small redhead.  Curiously, she grinned widely and called, "Hey, Mal-ferret.  Who spilled bubotuber puss on your face?"

            Malfoy's hand actually flew halfway to his face before he growled softly and let it fall.  "Weaslette, be glad you're not worth it, or I might get the idea to kill you."

            He stalked off, and the girl giggled softly and said to herself, "Not worth it?  Let's see."  Then she went into the room.

            "If anyone else sees that scheming expression on your face, your cute little façade will be shattered beyond repairing."

            Su whirled around to behold Warrington himself, smirking down at her.  _Why_ was she so short?  "People see what they expect to see, Warrington," she said coolly.  "That's why no one knows what hit them until too late.  Besides, weren't you the one who said I was incapable of evil?"

            "I said you _looked_ incapable of evil."

            She smiled, her face lighting up.  "Lucky me," she murmured.  Then she ducked into the room.

            "Perhaps," Warrington shrugged, smirking slightly as he followed her. "On the other hand, I don't know if I'd like that. It would be terrible if I spent my valuable time wreaking havoc, then lost all the credit for my hard work because 'oh, but Cassius looks so nice! He couldn't have done it!'."

"Ha! Not like that would ever happen," Su laughed, and Warrington beamed.

"Exactly. For which I am every day very thankful... now, how many people do we have...?"

As if in answer to his question, the door opened, and in walked two Gryffindors, whom Su recognized as Seamus Finnegan and Ginny Weasley. Behind them, came five younger students: Kevin Whitby and Laura Madley of Hufflepuff, Calista Green of Ravenclaw and Emma Dobbs and Graham Pritchard of Slytherin.

"All right then," Warrington addressed the students, some of whom were looking at him curiously, others distastefully, and the two Hufflepuffs rather terrifiedly. "You're here for Charms tutoring, I shall assume... unless you're really lost."

A variety of affirmative nods and assents greeted him, and Su continued in a soft-spoken manner, "I'm Su Li, of Ravenclaw... and _this_ is our so-kind-and-helpful Head Boy, Cassius Warrington of Slytherin. If there is anything at all that you wish for help with, Charms or otherwise, you should certainly talk to him, as he is _quite_ willing to go the extra distance and provide aid to anyone... even ones who do not request it." The last bit was said with a sweet, angelic smile, which she turned towards Warrington full-force.

He snerked and rolled his eyes.  "You insult me, Li... '_kind'? Please do not deceive yourself... or the others."_

"I don't think anyone was deceived," Su replied archly, "and insulting you was the intention."

Twenty minutes later, Su was sitting with both of the Hufflepuffs and Ginny Weasley, expounding on the theory of size-altering charms.  She had a feeling half the reason they had come to her was fear of Slytherins, or in Ginny's case, strong dislike.  Which was probably a very mild world.

Warrington had Seamus Finnigan and Calista, of all people, hanging on his every word as he explained the Fidelius Charm, which was certainly far too advanced for Calista and Seamus had probably only asked about for the sake of a theory essay.  There was no useful way of practicing that one.

The two Slytherins sat quietly on their own, working on their homework, calling to Warrington for help at sporadic intervals.

Looking at her small watch, Su clapped her hands to get everyone's attention, as the argument about the Fidelius Charm had steadily risen in volume.  "We have half an hour left," she stated.  "Time for practical application.  Pair up with someone form another house, please."  The two Slytherins scowled, but soon the pairs were made with only slight grumbling.  Neither of the Gryffindors paired with the Slytherins, she noticed, Finnigan going with Whitby and Ginny with Calista.  "And I will pair with Warrington," she said with a small self-satisfied smile.  "Work on whatever you've been doing in class, though keep in mind everyone's at a different level.  We will supervise and demonstrate."

            "Try not to kill each other," Was Warrington's addition to this.

            Su smiled at him again, that very meek face spoiled by glimmering eyes.  She clearly had no such intention.

            "_We should be warning __them," Calista said with a giggle, watching the veiled challenging looks pass between the two tutors.  Ginny looked curiously at the small, bespectacled girl with her hair in two thick braids.  "None of us are likely to know enough to take a stab at killing each other.  Su, though…"_

            Ginny voiced the general consensus.  "She seems so sweet."

            Calista giggled again.  "Whatever you say.  _Felix Consolum!"_

            Hit with the Cheering Charm, Ginny doubled over in giggles.

            Su watched her younger housemate hit the Gryffindor girl with a Cheering Charm, and grinned. "Good job, Calista... except your wandwork is just a little bit off. Here, let me show you..." Saying so, her grin widened, and she pointed her wand at Warrington, performing the Cheering Charm with a flourish.

            Warrington burst into laughter for a moment, as the Cheering Charm took effect. But only for a moment. The next, he had managed to mutter out a "_Finite Incantatum_" amidst chuckles, and narrowed his eyes slightly at a beaming Su. Nostrils flaring, he ignored the curious and amused looks from the younger students, and turned to Seamus Finnigan. "You were saying?" he asked coolly.

            "Oh, just wanted some review on movement charms," Seamus' face was twitching slightly. He would have laughed aloud... but the Head Boy was a Slytherin, and he didn't want to lose points so early on.

Warrington smirked.  "All right then..." Turning to Su, he whipped out his wand. "_Accio_ Su Li!_"_

Su found herself cut off mid-sentence in her conversation with Calista, and flying across the room towards Warrington. She gave a tiny little shriek as he caught her, then set her unceremoniously down onto the ground. He was smirking again. Damn him to hell.

Warrington turned to Seamus, chuckling lightly. "Does that answer your question?"

            Calista's statement about summed up everyone's thoughts at the moment; "Let the battles begin..."


	3. The Humour of the Situation

~*Every Other Time*~

Chapter Three: The Humour of the Situation

Dove: Wheeeheeheeee!  Characters from all over the place!  RPG characters, the return of the ubiquitous Calista, and of course… have you noticed that in every single one of the fics we write, together or separately, at some point, Mrs. Norris ends up blue?  Why should this time be any different?  And I have to say… I feel kind of bad for the Slytherin boys.  Anticipatory… but bad.

Thalia: The battles have begun. Who shall win? Ravenclaws vs. Slytherins... and at times, it seems as though the latter house has Gryffindor (read: stupidly courageous) tendencies. Key word being "SEEMS". Of course, everything remains to be seen, and as usual, there's snark of gargantuan proportions. R/R!!

Disclaimer: …How thick can you get?

_"When you walked in, I said with a grin_

_That we were just talking about you_

_We all had to lie because you would cry_

_If you knew we were laughing at you_

_In the momentary lull before the band begins to play_

_There's an overwhelming stench of alibi_

_Come on now, now_

_Come on now, now_

_Enjoy the humour of the situation…"_

"The Humour of the Situation" - Barenaked Ladies

The last class of the day finished with the toll of a bell, and the door to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom opened. Sixth year Ravenclaw students, their arms full of books and notes, filed out, discussing the information learnt in the day's lesson.

A few minutes later, Su Li was greeted by a rather surprising sight in the hallway.

            On the way to the Great Hall, walking together and apparently engaged in a civil conversation, were Cho Chang and Fleur Delacour, their new Defense professor. The former was quite politely discussing their recent lessons on the Patronus Charm... which, as Su recalled, had been a particularly sore point with Cho last year. Not to mention, their Seeker had _hated Fleur. But now... the two were walking together... and Cho was even smiling._

            Odd... and quite intriguing. There had to be some reasonable explanation for all this... an explanation that Su was quite determined to get, as soon as possible.

            She managed to catch Cho only an hour later, leaving dinner.  Greeting her friend, she began walking beside her towards the common room.  They conversed on frivolous topics before Su brought up her true reason for approaching her friend.  "I saw you speaking with Professor Delacour today," Su commented.  "I'm surprised no one died."

            Cho smiled slightly.  "I see.  That's what this is about."  She shrugged.  "What can I say?  Our point of contention has been settled."  Seeing that Su was confused, which happened so very rarely, Cho giggled slightly.  "So we decided since we can't be enemies anymore, we might as well be friends."

            Su shook her head.  "I _missed something," she said dolefully.  "How can I be covertly evil if I don't even know what's going on in my own __House?"_

            "I wish you all the best, and feel confident you can have Warrington hanging upside down from the ceiling before he knows what you're about," Cho said as they climbed the stairs.  "That _is_ who you're after, isn't it?  I expect nothing less from you."

            At the stair landing, Su made a passable curtsy with a giggle, spreading her robes wide.  "Why thank you," she said.  "But your flattery doesn't mean I'm not going to hound you until you tell me what's going on."

            "I'd expect nothing less than that, either."

            Shortly after Cho and Su walked out of the Great Hall, they were followed by Calista Green of their house, conversing with Ginny Weasley of Gryffindor. The redhead had a most incredulous expression on her face.

            "You're... with... _who?!_"

            "Blaise Zabini," Calista answered calmly.  "He's really quite nice when he wants to be."

            "You..." the Gryffindor girl looked at her with half-horror, half-admiration, "A Slytherin... but that's daft. Or you're very brave. But wait... you're not in Gryffindor. And Gryffindors and Slytherins don't get along. That's... daft. No offense meant," she added on hastily.

            Calista grinned, "None taken. I get that a lot."

            As if on cue, an aristocratic male voice drawled, "What are you doing here, Weaslette... aren't you supposed to be in Gryffindork Tower, mooning over His Royal Potheadedness?" Draco Malfoy was coming down the hall, a sneer on his face.

            Calista smiled wryly and whispered, "They're not all like that... at least, not all of the time..."

            "I bloody hope not," Ginny muttered, before turning towards Draco with a sneer to match his own. "Oh, it's you, Mal-ferret. Don't you have anything better to do than obsess over Harry or me because you're jealous? Oh, wait... you _don't have anything better to do. Your so-called friends are about the size of trolls, with half the intelligence and the same smell. I'm so _very_ sorry."_

            "At least my friends have a proper roof to sleep under when they go home, instead of sharing a bed with very likely all six of your siblings and maybe your parents under some sort of leaky thatch.  Come to think of it, the living arrangements are probably why you people breed like rabbits."  He smirked, never seeing the resounding slap coming until his pale face sported a bright red handprint.

            "Say something like that again, and I will kill you," Ginny hissed.  "With my bare hands, Malfoy, don't think I won't."  She stalked away with that, Calista following behind her, making pacifying noises.

            Draco was left alone in the hallway, hand to his slapped cheek, a startled and rather contemplative look on his face.

***

            Assignments of Prefect rounds that evening were a trial.  Generally, they tried to set up pairs of the same gender, to prevent "any bending of the rules", but that night something had gone skewed, and Warrington found himself setting out next to a seraphically smiling Su Li.  Which, come to think of it, had very likely been the original intent, since it had been the Ravenclaws who had insisted on going together, leaving Warrington and Angelina to scramble to find another "safe" boy/girl pair.

            Wandering down the dark hallways, watching for unnecessary movement, they were quiet, except when Su greeted one portrait or another, not always in English, in that falsely soft voice.

            "What's your game, Li?" he finally asked, curiosity getting the best of him.  "What are you playing at?"

            She looked up at him, those eyes remarkably guileless.  "I haven't the faintest idea what you're talking about, Warrington.  Cho and Zachary asked to go together tonight.  I daresay they're talking about Lisa.  She hasn't been well.  How could I have had anything to do with it?"

            "Because you're you, little girl.  Which is not at all the person everyone else thinks you are."

            He was treated to a brilliant smile.  "Exactly."

            "You know... it's sad, really," Warrington said rather thoughtfully.

"Oh? What is?" Su glanced up at him, still smiling sweetly.

He peered at her for a long moment, then smirked, "The general stupidity and lack of... perception that most people here have."

"Why, what a harsh accusation," Su tutted. "Whatever did they do to deserve such vicious censure?"

"I'm not being vicious," Warrington rolled his eyes good-naturedly, "but... for almost all of them to see you as... some little angel. They must be stupid."

"Well you certainly seemed to think that I was some 'little angel' when you so rudely carted me out of Knockturn Alley," Su remarked, all sweetness, baring her teeth slightly as she gave him another wide smile.

"Oh, don't deceive yourself, Li," he shot back, "I thought that you were a rather small, impulsive, unworldly little girl..." Su abruptly turned away to hide her furious expression... "But any little girl who would voluntarily go down to Knockturn Alley and poke around a Dark Arts shop... is no little angel." He gave her an infuriatingly smarmy grin, saying silkily, "Don't fret, kid... unlike the rest of them, I do not suffer from the delusion that you're harmless. The image you so eagerly maintain."

            "Oh, but see, this way, I can drive those with slightly more intelligence than a slug-like yourself, and slightly, I say, don't smirk at me-crazy when no one believes them every time they try to reveal my true nature."  She shrugged.  "And as for unworldly… don't underestimate me, Warrington, just because I look the way I do.  People that make that mistake are… not happy afterwards."

            "I'm shaking," he said blandly.

            "No," she disagreed softly.  "But you will be."  She turned her head slightly, tilted it as though she was listening, and called out towards a shadowy corner draped with a tapestry, "Stebbins, you've been caught before, you know.  I'm no nicer than Snape, as Sarah will tell you… Sarah, you should really know better.  Out.  Immediately, if you please."

            A minute later, a very sheepish Johnny Stebbins followed by a Sarah Fawcett who was clearly terrified extracted themselves from behind the tapestry, where it looked like there was an alcove.  "Su-" Sarah started.

            Su only raised a brow at her, yet Sarah wilted a little under that gaze, though she was a tall girl, certainly a head above Su, and two years older to boot.  "You're being terribly stupid, for a Ravenclaw," Su said, completely ignoring the Hufflepuff who had also been involved in the transgression.  "Haven't we talked about this?  Ad nauseum, I recall."

            "Yes," Warrington said with another smirk.  "If you're going to, at least do it so you don't get _caught."_

            Su turned to grimace at him.  "Why thank you, Warrington, for that extremely moral comeback."  She turned back to them.  "Common rooms.  Now.  Stebbins… go ask Snape for a detention tomorrow, please.  And make sure to tell him _why.  Sarah… oh, I don't even know what to say to you anymore."  She sighed.  "Yes, fine, go see Madam Pomfrey first, you idiot.  Why you're in Ravenclaw, I'll never know.  Tomorrow, report to Flitwick.  Ten points from each of you, and so help me, if I find out more of this has been going on on school property, I _will_ tell the headmaster exactly what's been going on, instead of the very edited version Cho's been giving."  She looked at them, her face expressionless in the silence.  "Well?  I thought I made myself clear."_

            The two headed off in the same direction, Sarah for the infirmary as Su suspected, and Johnny towards the general direction of the Hufflepuff common.  Before they were out of earshot, they heard Johnny mutter, "I thought she was the _nice_ one."

            When they turned a corner, Su turned defiantly to Warrington.  "Thank you kindly for your wonderful help.  You're Head Boy _how, exactly?"_

            He gave a light shrug, grinning slightly. "Hell if _I know... it might eventually become apparent." He did not seem at all concerned with this, or with her disapproval of his lack of Head Boy-like behaviour thus far. Git._

            "But really... they shouldn't do it in a bloody _tapestry_ of all places. Marginally better than the Astronomy Tower, which I still don't understand why is such a popular trysting place. It would be rather... _cold_... to shag up there, I'd say. The Muggle Studies classroom would probably be best... supposedly there's even Muggle furniture there. But then, most people around the school are just very uncreative. And then, most of them also do not know how to cast a bloody Contraceptive Charm. Sad, really..."

            Su looked at him, seething internally. Yes, he was completely missing the point. Yes, it was deliberate. Yes, he was fully aware that he was brassing her off. And yes, he was taking huge and inordinate amounts of enjoyment in this.

            She wondered if, still being underage, she would be able to get away with murdering him and stuffing his corpse into a suit of armor...

            And then she decided that no suit of armor deserved such a disgraceful fate.

***

            It was very early the next morning, and Ginny Weasley was eating breakfast at the Ravenclaw table, as coaxed by Calista Green, who had assured her that her housemates wouldn't mind.  Indeed, of the Ravenclaws up and about this early, half were studying and the other half waiting blearily for coffee, and the two small girls were largely ignored at their end of the table.  At the moment, Calista was in the process of listening to Ginny rant in a quiet but deadly voice about bleached ferrets and how they deserved nothing less than being torn limb from limb by raging wild horses.  Calista nodded along with the older girl's tirade and somehow suppressed her giggles.

            "-in the hallway!" Ginny finished.  "He's so… so… argh!" she tossed up her hands, then took a vicious bite of her muffin.  "Insufferable," she finally finished.

            "Yes, well, boys tend to be, don't they?" Calista said, eating her own buttered muffin without any hint of violence.  Ginny was beginning to think the small Ravenclaw girl very nearly always appeared calm.  She was also, however, realizing that many Ravenclaws that she had previously dismissed out of hand as being studious or boring actually had more layers than an onion and an ability to quite twist one's mind around before the unfortunate victim had any idea what was happening.  She found that she rather liked this quality.  She herself was too fiery-tempered to do so, so she appreciated it in others.  "In any case, they'll grow up two days before they die," Calista continued breezily.  "My grandmother used to say that the day a man matures is the day to begin planning his funeral."  She took a gulp of milk.  "I'm not entirely sure she was wrong."

            Despite herself, Ginny giggled.  "Yet you handle one of the most difficult cases in the school with ease, apparently," she said with a sigh.  "I wish I could do the same."  She blushed, realizing what she'd said.  "I don't mean-no!  That would be just terrible!  I mean to get him to leave me alone!"

            Calista giggled and shook her head.  "It's terribly easy, really.  You put him in his place and keep him there."  She smiled angelically.  "It's simple enough.  Boys, while undeniably insufferable, are simplistic, really.  They haven't a clue what you're doing until you've done it, if you're careful."

            "Easy for you to say," Ginny sighed, still fighting a losing war with the delicate skin natural to redheads.  She _would be blushing over the git, wouldn't she?_

            A very small girl with Asian features and the not-entirely-sure air of a first year settled across the table, her eyes glittering in what looked remarkably like malice.  Calista looked at her, sighed, and greeted her with, "Echo, you shouldn't let him get to you like that."

            The waiflike girl muttered something unintelligible, foreign, and by the sound of it quite nasty, and picked up an apple.  "One of these days," she said with an elusive sort of accent, "I will hang him upside down and watch while he is flayed."

            Su, who had just entered the Great Hall, was already there, patting the girl's shoulder and saying, as soothingly as she could, "Darling, you'll make him sorry he was ever born."

            Calista sighed in exasperation.  "Am I the only one able to handle a Slytherin, for Merlin's sake?"

            "Slytherins," said three voices in perfect unison, "are pigs."

            Ginny looked at the two Asian girls, the first year looking murderous and the Prefect amused, and saw the humour in the situation.  She began to giggle.  Soon, the other three joined her, and the day started with laughter.  More than one pair of eyes turned in the direction of the mirth, quite a few of them Slytherins, and more than one of them male, but only Blaise Zabini had the good sense to be frightened.

            At the Slytherin table, a first-year boy by the name of Benedick Jeunet was somewhat discontentedly rubbing an ink stain on his hand, and peering at the Ravenclaws out of the corner of his eyes. "What's _they_ so happy about, I wonder?"

            A few seats down, Warrington looked up from a copy of _N.E.W.T.S: How to Survive Unscathed_ and glanced at the young boy, shrugging lightly. "Probably plotting the downfall of the universe as we know it," he answered, not seeming the least concerned. "_Adclaro_!_" he waved his wand at the boy's hand, and the ink cleared away._

Benedick raised an eyebrow, smirking slightly. "Well... how much harm can they do? The little one..." he gestured discreetly at the first-year Ravenclaw girl who had been threatening such gruesome things earlier to her housemates, "Was hurrying... and bumped into me in the hallway. Splashed me with ink, too. Seems harmless enough..."

            Blaise Zabini sighed and gave the boy a patient, if slightly patronizing look. "They all do, kid... they _all_ do."

            "The proper way of dealing with it all is to infuriate them as much as possible and yet remain unmutilated, of course," Warrington said breezily, closing his book and taking a sip of coffee. "Good morning, Malfoy," he greeted the Seeker as the latter plunked down between Blaise and Susannah Caligo. "You look rather... unrested. Dream much?"

            Malfoy muttered something about nightmares and redheads, and the Head Boy sniggered, "Perhaps you should get a cold shower, hmm? Might... ah... wake you up?"

            "If you're suggesting what I think you are, then you should also know that your life is in imminent danger..." Malfoy half-groaned, half-snarled.

            Warrington looked wholly unconcerned, and grinned, "I get that a lot. Thank you."

***

            The pairs for Prefect rounds were always shifted around, and with the system he and Angelina had worked out, no one pair should have been working together on any two nights running.  It was a system brilliant in its simplicity.

            Which was why Warrington didn't quite understand why he was wandering the corridors with Li for the fifth time in two weeks.

            "You'd think they'd get tired of booby-trapping the Potions classroom in hopes of somehow murdering Snape," Su said exhaustedly, for they had just undone a rather nasty series of hexes and curses arrayed around the Potions classroom.

            Warrington, still racking his brain about the mix-up in the perfect schedule, nevertheless managed an infuriating expression and shrugged.  "They seem bright enough not to be caught.  It's an exercise in counter-curses.  Aren't you supposed to be good at Charms?"

            "Bite me, Warrington," she said, having long-ago given up the pretense of innocence around him.  Bantering was much more… satisfying.

            "I never thought you'd ask," he said, with a smarmy sort of smile.  "Unfortunately for you, I don't rob cradles."

            "Unfortunately for _you_, if you touched me, I'd have to kill you," she said.

            He laughed at that.  "Unfortunately for you, if I wanted to, you'd have very little chance.  I've manhandled you before, and I could certainly do it again.  You're too small to make a sizeable dent in me."

            "Does it hurt when your ego is twice the size of your body?  It must be terribly uncomfortable."

            "You flatter me," he said.  Bantering with her was rather entertaining.  Better than running the rounds with Malfoy, who whined about that Gryffindor girl, as teasing him was bound to get old after a while.  After all, he wasn't able to properly snap back, as Su obviously could.

            "You'd think they'd get creative, anyway.  If you want to prank Snape, go for his Potions stores, or the supply of hair oil he must have hidden somewhere.  If you want to prank Filch, go for-"

            "The cat?" Warrington suggested.  Just then, said creature came skulking down the hall, her eyes narrowed at them.  She wasn't calling for Filch though-she must have known they had a perfect right to be here.

"Yes, Mrs. Norris," Su said, caught up in the planning.  "After all, it's his most precious possession, Merlin knows why, with those eyes.  Nothing to hurt her of course," she didn't approve of cruelty to animals, "but just something bound to hack Filch off indefinitely.  Something like…"

"_Capillus__ mutare puteulanus," Warrington said, waving his wand lazily at the cat in front of them.  The creature looked as though it hadn't noticed the spell.  Mrs. Norris was now, however, a violent shade of blue.  "This?" he asked._

            Su looked at the bright blue Mrs. Norris and struggled not to laugh.  "Why blue?" she demanded.  "I realize Ravenclaw is the superior house, but-"

            "It's so they blame you, of course," he said, neatly cutting her off.  "What Slytherin in his right mind would prank a cat another house's color, after all?"

            "I fully agree about you being out of your right mind," Su said as the cat trotted off.  "And oh, you'd like to think you're so very clever."

            "Correction, Li.  I _know I'm very clever."_

            "You are, perhaps, a slight bit above your ridiculous housemates," she said.  "But you've nothing on me, you smarmy Slytherin.  I'm a Ravenclaw for a reason."  She looked at her watch.  "Rounds are up.  See you in the morning."  With that, she ran off towards her common room.

            Neither was entirely sure who had gotten the last word.


	4. The Female of the Species

~*Every Other Time*~

Chapter Four: The Female of the Species

Thalia: Slytherin madness. Yes. You heard right. Here, we get to see a most excellent fencing tournament-of-sorts in the Slytherin Common Room, much disgruntled Blaise Zabini, and the requisite evil plotting of Cassius Warrington and Su Li. Oh yes... and did I mention that Draco goes a LEETLE bit bonkers?

Dove: Yes.  Well, now that we can't stick to canon since we've pretty much tossed it out the window anyway (OotP was… obviously not quite what we expected), we get to go completely mad.  I like our version.  So… yes.  From this moment on, consider this an AU.  And… enjoy.  For I have missed D/G badly while I was gone.  Therefore this chapter… feeds the craving.

Disclaimer: I must say, now that this is an AU, wouldn't you rather we owned Harry Potter?  Sirius is _alive_ in this version.

_"Shock shock horror horror, shock shock horror!_

_I'll shout myself hoarse for your supernatural force! _

_The female of the species is more deadly than the male. _

_Oh, she deals in witchcraft and _

_One kiss and I'm zapped. Oh, _

_How can heaven hold a place for me _

_When a girl like you has cast her spell on me? _

_Oh, How can heaven hold a place for me _

_When a girl like you has cast her spell on me?"_

- Space, "The Female of the Species"

Now that the term was comfortably (or not-so-comfortably, as the case might be) under way, Cassius Warrington called together the Slytherin team and reserves together for the first Quidditch practice of the year.

The first game of the season would be Gryffindor versus Ravenclaw, and then, the next would be them against Hufflepuff. Though Warrington was not overly concerned with that game (what with Hufflepuff having to use a completely new and inexperienced Seeker), it was quite necessary to settle the few missing positions on their team.

They needed a new Chaser, now that Flint had gone, and a new Keeper as well.

As soon as they'd gotten to the pitch, Warrington surveyed the reserves carefully. Several fifth years, a handful of fourth years, and one second year. Hmm...

A round of regulars-against-reserves later, Blaise Zabini was declared the new Chaser, and fifth year Julian Moon for Keeper. But much to everyone's surprise (and dismay), the highlight of the practice was the second year reserve Seeker, Malcolm Baddock, who had almost been able to catch the Snitch before Draco Malfoy had. Baddock had seen the ball first, and only by dint of the fact that Malfoy had more experience and therefore a more precise dive was the latter able to catch it.

Though Malfoy had seemed quite irritated at this, he had skulked off after showering, seemingly oblivious to the shocked stares that his teammates had been giving him. It was quite obvious that his mind was very firmly elsewhere.

Warrington pulled Blaise Zabini aside after the practice, ostensibly to tell the newest Chaser some strategies for the upcoming games and to have someone help carry the Quidditch chest back to the broomshed. However, after the others had left the pitch, Warrington started questioning the fifth year of his roommate's recent odd behaviour.

Blaise rolled his eyes. "It's quite simple, really. Malfoy's got his knickers in a twist over the Weasley girl. He's battling it out between his pride, certain sorts of... obligations, and a persistent sort of... fascination with her that he finds distinctly distasteful." The Italian boy smirked slightly, "I daresay it was the slap that did it."

"Slap?" Warrington sniggered lightly. "What... does Malfoy have hidden kinky tendencies that none of us want to know about?"

Blaise gave a snort. "Nah... according to Calista, Weasley slapped him when he made some sort of nasty remark. Now, that's not the sort of behaviour he's used to getting from girls. Pansy wouldn't have. Tracey wouldn't have. Millicent _certainly_ wouldn't have. And certainly he didn't expect little Weasley to do it. I mean sure, Granger's slapped him before. But then, Granger has always been rather outspoken and such... Weasley, on the other hand... so little... so innocent..."

The Head Boy chuckled, shaking his head slightly, "The little girls aren't always as innocent as they seem... Malfoy should probably understand that."

"Perhaps he's starting to. If he can come to terms with the idea and... oh... stop acting like he's three."

"True. Three-year-olds don't play Quidditch." Warrington rolled his eyes. "They whine and sulk and throw amusing but very childish tantrums."

"Amusing?" Blaise grimaced, "Hardly. Crabbe and Goyle are certainly no help to him in... er... talking about the situation. Certainly he can't talk to Pansy or Tracey or... Heaven help us... _Millicent_ about it. Even if the three didn't want to shag him. Therefore, it lies incumbent upon yours truly to listen to disjointed and nonsensical bitching about impertinent redheaded twerps and how dare she blah blah blah and it's all I can do to bite my tongue and refrain from informing him that ickle eight-year-old boys act precisely like he does around Weasley when they like a girl... and tell him to snog her and get it out of his system already."

Warrington laughed openly at Blaise's discontented rant. "Why don't you?"

"Because he confiscated a rather large flask of shrinking powder from some fourth year sneaking to Zonko's and I'd rather my knickers remain unadulterated, thank you very much," came the immediate reply. "Why don't _you talk to him about it instead? You seem rather reckless... deliberately trying to brass off that Su Li..."_

"It's not recklessness," Warrington shrugged lightly, "it's entertainment. And moreover, I'm not underestimating her. Unlike the other, more stupid or idealistic folk, I don't think she's some little angel who couldn't hurt a flobberworm. Hmm, as for Malfoy... I just might. Whenever it would be most expedient and diverting to do so. Preferably in front of that brother of the girl's whom Draco hates so much."

Blaise shook his head wryly, "Are you always this evil?"

"No," Warrington grinned, "I can be worse."

***

            Meantime, Draco Malfoy was stalking down the corridors of Hogwarts, a livid scowl on his aristocratic face that had more than one first year freezing against the wall in sheer terror.  He wasn't sure quite where he was going.  The thing he _was very sure of was that whenever he got there, the Weaslette had just better be there as well, so that he could settle her once and for all._

            Su, walking out of the library with Terry, noted this look and deduced that something interesting was going on.  "Gotta go, see you later!" she said airily, and turned on her heel and followed Draco down the hallway.  For his part, the Slytherin boy was far too riled up to notice her.

            In fact, he only came to a stop by one of the small stairways leading, as far as Su could tell, in the direction of the Owlery.  A very surprised Ginny Weasley, who was holding an envelope in her hand and had a quill tucked behind her ear, was standing on the bottom step, making her almost eye-level.  Malfoy was clearly not about to let her past.  He simply looked at her, his face quite furious and not entirely sane.  Su, realizing that Weasley wasn't in the same half-mad state, hid behind a convenient gargoyle and watched the proceedings with interest.

After a few moments of crackling silence, Ginny gathered her suddenly scattered wits and spoke.  "What, Malfoy?  I feel certain you're not here just to stare at me.  Let me by, will you, and go terrorize someone who gives a damn," she said as coolly as she could.  It would have almost come off as nonchalant, except the fact the tips of her ears were turning bright red, just as Ron's were wont to do when he was nervous.

            Malfoy, for his part, was having a very difficult time figuring out what exactly he had gone looking for her for.  "You'd give a bloody damn if I wanted you to give one," he said angrily, slamming his fist against the wall to her left, completely cutting off her escape.

            Escape was far from her mind right now.  If she did, she would have to step into that electrically charged space around him.  She stayed where she was.  "Don't presume, Mal-ferret," she said with a faked nonchalance.  In truth, she was beginning to be frightened.  "Not all of us can be taken in by your oh-so-charming scowl and hideously bad attitude."  She was hugging her envelope in front of her, but it was flimsy protection, and she knew it.  If only his eyes did not look quite so… desperate.

            "Damn you, Weaslette," he hissed, his eyes narrowing to slits.  "You have no bloody right to be… to act so… to make me…" Ginny, looking terrified despite her best efforts now, tried to duck under his arm.  That seemed to break any sort of control he had, and he pushed her forcibly against the wall, fusing his lips to hers for an elongated moment.

Behind her gargoyle, Su was grinning.  Oh, she would _really_ have a good time with this one…

He released her, and her hand grappled for the wall, obviously because she was having a bit of a problem staying upright.  "Stay the hell away from me Weaslette," Draco said, his voice full of anger and what seemed almost like self-loathing.  "Just stay the hell away, or you'll be sorry."  He whirled around and stalked down the hall, his robes billowing in a fair imitation of Professor Snape.  The paper-white Ginny took several moments to steady herself before heading off in another direction, her freckles standing out quite strongly on her pallor and her dark eyes very wide.

Left alone in the hallway, Su stood up from her hiding place and shook her head.  "Someone needs to give those too a firm smack on the bottom, with how childish they're acting," she proclaimed to the air.  A portrait on the wall sniggered appreciatively.  Still, Su was grinning.  Such… possibilities.

***

Draco Malfoy, still in a state of rabid, red-head-induced mania, stormed down the hallway, his hands clenched in fists. His gray eyes were blazing, and even older students stepped out of the way when they saw him coming. Desperate Slytherins driven to blind fury were not creatures to cross. It would be like prodding a very poisonous snake with one's bare hands.

Ron Weasley, however, seemed to be fond of this particular dangerous but stimulating activity.

Unlike Susan Bones of Hufflepuff, who had practically jumped out of Malfoy's way with a squeak, the redheaded boy glowered when he saw his nemesis approaching, and loudly remarked. "What's the matter, ferret boy? Lost the single brain cell that you and your two goons share?"

Draco saw red hair, and like a Spanish fighting bull, flared his nostrils and growled. "Weasley," he drawled, his voice icy, "two seconds. Two seconds. Fifteen paces of hallway. You're hopefully fast enough, you overgrown redheaded scarecrow."

Ron gave a snort, "Ah ah ah... what's this, ickle Prefect threatening a student, hmm?"

            Draco marched forward, and beyond words now, bodily gave the other boy a hard shove. Ron, not expecting this, stumbled backwards, and now with his way clear, the Slytherin continued on his way towards his common room, the place of peace and tranquility, where there were no redheaded demons haunting his life, where he would be able to find rest and achieve some sort of balance in his life again...

...Yes, the encounter with Weaslette had unhinged him rather severely.

            The furniture in the center of the Slytherin Common Room had been moved towards the side when Draco entered. In the center of the room was a sight that might have been surprising to those of other houses, had they been able to see, but to the Slytherins, it was nothing particularly unusual.

A tall, dark-haired boy in first year, his face a mask of concentration, was holding a silver fencing foil in one hand, his posture agile, his eyes looking for an opening. A stately-looking girl with flaxen hair, pulled back in a tight, out-of-the-way chignon, faced him, also holding a foil. Susannah Caligo, the princessly sixth year Prefect, parried the _Punto_ Reverso_ that the boy aimed with a skillful twist of her wrist, and the slight chime of metal against metal rang out in the otherwise quiet common room, as several Slytherins watched the proceedings with interest._

            A short while later, Susannah, after a clever feint, managed to win the "duel". A bit of applause from the audience, and the girl gave a mock-curtsey before stepping back, nodding at Benedick Jeunet. "Good match."

The boy inclined his head, and stepped away, setting his rapier down on the ground. Slytherin was probably the only house in the school that had this sort of activity.

Draco stepped up and picked up the rapier that Susannah dropped. "This is fun," he almost snarled. "I think I should have a turn."

            Several looked at him rather dubiously. Susannah rolled her eyes. "You know that fencing when you aren't thinking clearly is rather a _bad thing..." she stated coolly.___

_            "WHATEVER gave you the impression that I'm not thinking clearly? Huh? HUH?!"_ Draco snapped, glaring at the girl.

"Perhaps the fact that you look about as angry as a herniated manticore," Warrington, leaning against the wall, remarked with a slight raise of the eyebrows.

            "HERNIATED MANTICORE MY @%@#$(*&%^&@#!!" Draco waved his rapier rather wildly at the Head Boy. "Are _you_ volunteering to go against me, then?"

Warrington gave a slight snort. "Go up against a few younger students, if you will. With you in this state of mind, you're bound to make stupid mistakes enough that it wouldn't be good for your ego to go against someone your age or older."

            Despite Warrington's evident lack of confidence in Draco Malfoy's fencing prowess at the moment, the few first years who were somehow coerced into facing against the blond found that he was quite ferocious, even _if he were not following the rules, and using the foil as if it were a hatchet rather than a stabbing implement. After the third round, Blaise Zabini, who had watched his roommate almost attempt to brain the hapless brown-haired boy he was up again with a most decidedly inappropriate tool for such a job, called out, "Say, Draco, try to be a bit less aggressive towards your own housemates, hmm?"_

            "Am pretending that they're Pothead and the Weasel, the male one," Draco snipped out between clenched teeth as he gave a rather exaggerated lunge. "Shut up and sod off!"

            Blaise sighed deeply. "Why don't you pretend that they're Weasel, the female, instead?"

            And even as Draco whirled around from the match, his eyes blazing, heading towards Blaise with fencing foil quivering belligerently in his white-knuckled grip, Warrington muttered. "Because he _doesn't_ want to snog these ickle firsties. Or at least, even he _wouldn't go so far as to rob the cradle in everyone else's presence, even if he were so inclined. __Accio__ fencing foil!"_

            The imminent threat to Blaise's health was subverted, but Draco Malfoy's mood had not been improved. And as the blond stomped off, still in a towering rage, towards his dormitory, most of the Slytherins in the common room gave each other rather long-suffering looks.

Warrington continued to smirk in his corner, idly spinning the fencing foil in his hand.

***

            For Prefect rounds the next night, Susannah had selflessly offered to go with Draco.  As his mood had, if anything, worsened, after a night of quite graphic dreams and a day of a certain redhead seemingly everywhere he looked, no one had wanted to deal with him.  Even the fearless Hermione looked quite terrified to be within ten feet of him.  Susannah, however, had simply yanked him aside (he had looked about ready to have a go at all the Gryffindors on the principle of the thing) and, after hissing at Warrington to "Do something, damn it!" departed.

            Warrington was quite unsurprised when Su offered to go with him.  It was the expression on her face, nearly shining with anticipation and a secret she alone knew, that had him a little taken aback.  She wasn't even attempting to hide the fact that she had something… evil in mind.  No one seemed to notice, or perhaps they just thought she was in a good mood over a test score or something.  They were terribly blind, after all.

            Once they were strolling the dungeon area of the school, Su deigned to speak at last.  "I've come across some information I believe you'd be quite interested in," she said, with the air of someone about to drop a very large bomb.

            "Oh?  And why would you think I would care about anything you'd have found out?  I do have my own sources, you know."

            "Oh, naturally," she said airily.  "But Malfoy's not about to tell you, I'd wager and, well, Miss Weasley doesn't seem to consider you a confidant worth trusting.  That leaves me, unless perhaps Trelawney has managed to teach you to see the unseen.  No?"

            Warrington shook his head.  "If you refer to the fact that he wishes to snog the silly Gryffindor senseless, I'm afraid the entire house is already aware."

            "Wants to?" Su asked sweetly.  "Oh, no.  More like, he has.  And oh… was it a sight worth seeing.  I could be blackmailing Malfoy with this.  The thought had occurred to me… but I have something better in mind."

            Despite himself, Warrington was interested.  "Oh?"

            "Well," Su said with a little smile, "I seem to see that your house at large is tired of Malfoy's sulks… and on my end, I just think it would be rather… amusing… the ripples of chaos that would spread if those two got over their childish foolishness.  Just imagine… Lucius Malfoy's reaction alone would likely as not make the front page of the Prophet."

            "So you are saying," Warrington said, his smirk anticipatory, "that you watched Malfoy snog the little Weasley girl?"  He chuckled slightly.  "What a terribly voyeuristic mind you have for such a little girl."

            Su, unwilling to be taken in by his poke at her pride only smiled brightly.  "There are certain… advantages… to keeping an eye out.  In any case."  She stopped and looked up at him before sticking out her hand.  "I propose we call a truce for the time being… and work together towards this common goal.  After all… you've much better access to Malfoy than I.  And I really doubt Weasley would listen to reason from any member of the male species.  I believe this endeavor would be mutually advantageous.  What do you say?"

            He put one hand up to his chin in thought for a few moments. "Hmm... to postpone our mutual murders for the time being until we have worked towards the common goal of seeing McGonagall faint and Snape scream like a girl, whilst the two males of the Golden Gryffindor trio start begging the female to perform Memory Charms upon them at the sight of the little Weasley snogging big, bad, Malfoy... and perhaps Lucius Malfoy having a heart attack..." The smirk on his face slowly widened, and he shook the girl's hand. "A deal."


	5. Stumbling In

~*Every Other Time*~

Chapter Five: Stumbling In

Dove: Oh… dear.  Lots of Quidditch, lots more plotting, and many minor character SHIPs abound.  Pansy in her death spike pink heels make an appearance, and Emma talks to much effect!  And of course, the D/G thickens to a molasses-type quality.  And this starts to look more like a D/G fic than a W/S, but I swear that will change!!!  And anyway, who _doesn't love D/G?_

Thalia: Yes, they (being our characters) are evil. We realize this. After all, _we_ are evil. Slytherin cunning and Ravenclaw wisdom. A formidable combination. I feel sorry for their victims. Not really.

Disclaimer: We own the AU Evil Potterverse. Bwha.

_"Pulled in every direction,_

_Have a million regrets,_

_And you're the perfect protection,_

_When I'm down in over my head_

_In the middle of it all _

_You always break my fall,_

_In the middle of it all_

_Over and over, again and again_

_You come through the door without stumbling in,_

_I'm twisted and tangled and soaked to the skin,_

_You come through the door without stumbling in, again…"_

-Great Big Sea, "Stumbling In"

A small girl, looking somewhat out of place and yet quite oddly comfortable with herself, sat in the stands of the Quidditch pitch, a spot of sapphire in a sea of green. Ravenclaw third-year Calista, rather than sitting with her cheering housemates (for the game was Ravenclaw against Gryffindor), sat amongst the Slytherins, next to Blaise Zabini.

The latter had been roped into wearing a blue rosette on his robes, in support of Calista's house, and the Ravenclaw girl herself was currently occupied in tying a bright blue ribbon in his hair, to his somewhat disgruntled tolerance.

"Nice look on you, Zabini," Warrington, sitting a few seats off, smirked at the younger Slytherin. "Perhaps you should borrow one of Susannah's skirts to go with it."

"No." Blaise and Susannah both gave Warrington dirty looks and negated the suggestion at the same time.

            "Why not, pray?" Warrington raised an eyebrow, _almost_ the picture of perfectly diabolical Slytherin innocence.

"Because he doesn't have the posterior for it," Susannah replied immediately, inciting a slight snort from Montague, who sat at her side.

            Calista rolled her eyes slightly, then cheered as Su put a goal past Ron, lessening Gryffindor's lead slightly. As Lee Jordan yelled out "And newcomer Li, with a rather neat reverse throw, scores! 70:40, Gryffindor!" Calista turned to look at Warrington expectantly.

It took the Head Boy a few seconds to notice the small girl gazing at him. Raising an eyebrow, he asked her what was the matter.

"Well, aren't you going to cheer? Or are you rooting for the Gryffindors?"

"The day I cheer for the Gryffindors is the day that the moon will crash into the sun," Warrington replied. "You mustn't forget that it is one of my main goals this year to drive the Head Girl batty. But why am I to cheer for the Ravenclaws? Can't I just... not cheer and probe both teams for weaknesses?"

            Calista's eyes were wide, "But I had thought that you and Su had become friends or something."

            Now the Slytherins were all looking at Warrington. Montague's eyebrows were raised questioningly.

"Well. If postponing mutual murder for the time being until we've finished wreaking havoc on the school counts as friendship... sure. But... 'become friends or something'... I think I'll go with the 'or something'."

            "Well. As long as you don't think that she'll throw a Quaffle at your head or something randomly during the game," Calista replied. "I _am sitting close to you, after all, and if I duck, I might dislodge the rosette on Blaise's shirt."_

            Warrington gave a snort, "In the unlikely event that she did, I _am a Chaser. And so is your devoted, whipped boyfriend."_

            "Am not whipped," Blaise muttered.

            "Say that when you don't have a bow in your hair, Zabini," Warrington replied complacently. "You might be slightly more convincing."

            "Watch the game, Warrington," Blaise said, trying to keep his face dignified.  "Just watch the bloody game."

            The bloody game was certainly entertaining, if nothing else.  It seemed that Terry Boot of the Ravenclaw team had managed to implant a bludger quite neatly in Harry Potter's shoulder.  The Gryffindor Seeker was still flying, amidst cheers from the Ravenclaw section and Angelina Johnson screaming at the top of her lungs at Fred and George for not watching the bludgers, but nonetheless, Harry's face was positively pinched with concentration.

            "Nice go, Terry," Calista remarked with a smile.

            "Almost worthy of a Slytherin play," Blaise said loyally.

            Calista grinned up at him.  "No.  He didn't cheat."

            Warrington gave her a mild look.  "That was uncalled for."

            "Try the intimidation tactics on someone else," she said breezily.  "Terrifying as you might be, it just… isn't terrifying me."  She grinned.  "Besides, it's true, some of the time.  Especially under Flint.  I haven't seen Slytherin play your way yet, so I don't know-oh, look!"

            On the field, Angelina, Alicia and Katie, looking determined and rather frightening had formed a perfect Hawkshead Attacking Formation and were barreling down the field with the Quaffle.  "100:30, Gryffindor!" called out Lee Jordan's very satisfied voice a moment later, as Keeper Alan Wellesley missed the save .  "That's the way to get them, ladies!  And… Chang is diving!  Potter is behind her, but he's got a weak grip on his broom-might be that bludger-and… are they going to pull out of that dive… it's…"

            Both Seekers seemed to realize they were neck-in-neck just then.  A foot or so above the ground, Cho tried to pull up, got her broom tip caught on Harry's robes, and both of them went crashing to the ground, the golden sparkle of the Snitch lost somewhere under them.

            "And they both go down!" Lee Jordan howled.  "The nurse is rushing onto the field, along with… yes, the headmaster and Professor Flitwick… are they all right, professors?  Oh, look, Potter's sitting up, rubbing his head, but nothing's broken this time, way to go Harry!  And now Chang is scrambling up…"

            Cho got to her feet and, smiling sunnily, raised her hand into the air.  Something sparkled.  "I have it!" she called out brightly.

            The stadium exploded in cheers as Cho reached down a hand to help Harry up.  He took it, winced at the pain in his shoulder, but smiled genuinely at her.  "The game goes to Ravenclaw, 180:100!" Lee called out as the teams landed.

            Up in the stands, Calista was jumping up and down and cheering at the top of her lungs.  The Slytherins around her were clapping politely.  "Not a bad game," Susannah said grudgingly.  "Their Keeper's decent, but your Chasers are quite passable.  Li is rather talented."  She smirked at Warrington.  "You should go down and congratulate her, Cassius.  I think she's signaling you."

            And indeed, down on the field, Su was making a beckoning sort of motion towards the Slytherin stands.  She made it nice and exaggerated so that those up in the stands were sure to see her.  "Stupid little girl," Warrington groaned.

            "You're not actually going to… _go_ when a girl waves her hand, are you?" Benedick asked, his voice surprised.

            "He will if he knows what's good for him," Calista said with a giggle.

            Warrington glared at Blaise.  "Keep the Ravenclaw under control, will you?  Next thing you know, half the school thinks I'm a nice guy."  He turned around and went down the stairs.  He had been planning on hunting her up after the game, anyway.  Why did the little bint have to signal at him for all the school to see?

            "Your secrecy seriously needs work," he told her when he circled around behind the dressing rooms to find her, still blue-clad, lounging against the wall.

            "Not at all," she disagreed.  "I just wanted to embarrass you.  Did it work?"

            "The only person who looked ridiculous was you, kid," he said lightly, ruffling her blonde hair, knowing it would bother her.  "What did you want?"

            "Tutoring tonight," she said lightly.  "Get Malfoy to stay for Charms, will you?"

            "Why is that?" Warrington asked, curiously.

            "Because," she said cheerfully.  "I said so."

***

Later that evening, before tutoring sessions were to begin, Warrington took Draco Malfoy aside, a perfect poker face in place.

"Malfoy, a word." The voice was stern. Almost incongruously so. But the blond skulked over to the seventh year with a scowl.

"What?"

            "There's a little... issue. With tutoring sessions," Warrington replied, his authoritative face not betraying any sign of the evil plots teeming in his brain.

            "Okay! Fine! I'll stop asking to use Longbottom's bloody toad as the test subject for the potions!" Draco threw his hands into the air.

            "Wasn't going to mention that," Warrington said mildly, "but since you promised, might as well. Anyway... could you for the love of all females redheaded _please clean up after the session is over? Last time in __my session, Emma Dobbs found spilled flobberworm mucus all over the tabletop."_

The aforementioned girl, scowling over the edge of her parchment, seemed to corroborate this story, and Draco groaned. "Doesn't Branstone clean?"

"Well, _her side of the room is rather clean, come to think of it..." Warrington said thoughtfully, "but. Yours should be, too. Stay after a bit and do it." The last was spoken evenly, but in a tone that brooked no arguments._

"I'm _not a bloody house-elf!" Draco glared at him, "The _twits_ should clean up after themselves!"_

"Then you should stay behind and make sure they do so rather than dash out in hopes of seeing the girl Weasel in the hallway so you can ogle her covertly whilst insulting her family," Warrington replied easily.__

_            "I DO NOT OGLE HER!!!"_ Draco's voice was loud and furious.

"Yes you do," Emma Dobbs sniggered slightly. "From what I've heard, Millicent Bulstrode is quite angry about it. She might burst a blood vessel. Unless she succeeds in plotting to poison Weasley or something."

"She wouldn't _dare," Draco snapped, before realizing what he'd just said and clapping a pale hand to his face._

"You know, this is fun," Emma remarked to no one in particular.

            _"YOU STAY OUT OF IT!" Draco glared at her._

"You figure out your life, hopefully soon," the younger girl replied simply. "At this rate, you already can't scare the younger Slytherins any more. If this continues, you won't even be able to scare the Hufflepuffs. Then where would we be?"

            Warrington smirked at Emma, who gave an almost imperceptible nod before turning back to her Transfiguration. "Well, Malfoy... until we'd gone off on the fascinating tangent of your infatuation with the little redhead, there was that little matter of you staying after and making sure that things were cleaned up and in order after your tutoring session."

"_Fine!_ I'll stay. _For FIVE MINUTES."_

The Head Boy sniggered to himself as he strode out. "Oh, you'll be staying for more than that," he muttered under his breath. "How silly of me. I forgot to tell you."

***

Draco was in a decidedly ill mood during his tutoring session, although this wasn't anything new. Angela Branstone, besides giving him a few reproachful looks as she gently explained to Neville Longbottom the correct way to stir the wit-sharpening Potion she was helping him brew, said nothing. Zach had told her that her unruly fellow tutor would "soon be made to behave".

Hufflepuff faith and optimism kept her serene.

Meanwhile, out in the hallway, unbeknownst to them, Emma Dobbs, arms crossed over her chest, was rolling her eyes slightly as she glanced down the hall, waiting. Seamus Finnigan stood a few paces away, apparently not sure whether or not to converse with the younger Slytherin.

Finally, Seamus spoke, "Bloody bad luck that Ravenclaw won. Had a bet with Li... I'm not going to stick around for tutoring, then. Test tomorrow, though."

"Oh," Emma's voice was indifferent, "how utterly tragic. I'm not staying either. Warrington said that what they were going to cover isn't something that my class was learning."

"Then what're you doing here?"

"Waiting for Pansy. She had some hair appointment or another, but she said she'd be around later. What're _you doing here? Don't Gryffs always have places to go, people to save, and all that?"_

            "Don't Slythies always hex first, and ask later, when it comes to us?" Seamus retorted.

"No, the hotheaded acting without thinking is _your_ thing," Emma replied. "But if you want to be hexed, I'm sure it can be arranged. What sort of hex are you in the mood for, strange growths on your body or oddity in movement? Perhaps some sort of mental incapacity?"

"How considerate of you to ask me first," Seamus glared somewhat at her. She didn't seem phased.

"Almost all Slytherins have impeccable breeding," Emma informed him coolly. "Hmm... Pansy's five minutes late. Potions is almost out."

At that moment, just as Neville Longbottom, clutching his Potions text in one hand, and his cleaned cauldron in the other, walked out of the classroom with a pale face, the unmistakable sound of high heels clicking on uncarpeted floor reached Emma's ears. "Ah, she's here. I'll have to hex you some other day, after you've made up your mind what you want it to be."

            As Pansy, her hands full of parcels (evidently having gone shopping as well as getting her hair curled), caught sight of Neville, she smirked slightly. "Come here, boy."

Neville, thinking she must be referring to someone else, ignored it until the sound of an impatient throat clearing behind him caused him to cringe and turn around. "Er.. me?"

"Well certainly not the Irish git," Pansy said bossily. "Hold this for me." She held out a hatbox.

Emma sniggered lightly as Neville, unsure of what he was doing but ever obedient and willing to please, did so, looking somewhat silly with a hot pink hatbox balanced on top of a black cauldron.

            Pansy, hands now somewhat free, took out a compact mirror and checked her makeup, taking time to apply a new coat of lipstick. Seamus was glaring at her, both for ordering around his roommate and for gratuitously insulting himself. 

"Oh, are you sad that Pansy isn't making you carry her clothing?" Emma snickered slightly, "I'll make sure to take you on some shopping excursion and make up for it."

Seamus made a half-snort, half-growl, and walked off, sandy blond head disappearing down the hallway. Emma shrugged, and turned back to Pansy. "Well, as handy as he might be, we probably shouldn't take him to the common room."

"Not now, at any rate," Pansy agreed, taking her box back from Neville. "Off with you, then. Perhaps some other time," she said genially to Neville.

The Gryffindor boy made a mental note to avoid the scary girl with the death-by-pink-spike shoes in the future, and took off.

When Cassius Warrington and Su Li arrived at the door, the hallway was empty except for an unmistakable head of long red hair moving towards them, and when Warrington peered through the door, he smirked in satisfaction.

"He's almost done cleaning. Good. He doesn't even have multicoloured sludge all over him."

"My planning is impeccable," Su informed him pertly.

"You sound rather smug and egotistical, just so you know," Warrington sniggered slightly. "Careful... people might come to conclusions that you've been associating with me too much."

"I _am associating with you too much, but that's beside the point," she replied. "Hello, Ginny. How are you this evening?"_

            "Passable," Ginny said, slowing down.  "Good game, Ravenclaw," she said.  "Ron says you're harder than hell to block."

            "Thank him for the compliment for me, then," Su said.  "He's a good Keeper.  I love a challenge."  She smiled.  "Ready to work harder than you have yet?"

            Ginny stopped and looked at the two of them, wondering.  It didn't seem so different from the way they usually were, demure Su and amused Warrington, but somehow, they seemed… unified.  She wasn't sure why, but she was rather frightened.  "Will it be that bad tonight?" she asked, trying for an easy smile.

            "You will very likely hate us before it's over," Su said just as easily.  "And wish you could run and lock yourself in your dormitory."

            "Charms is hard, but it isn't _that bad," Ginny said.  "Well, I'll just go put my things down, then."  She walked into the room._

            "Whoever said it was Charms?" Su giggled under her breath.  She pointed her wand at the door.  A flash of blue light flew to the keyhole.  Moments later there was a scream inside and the sound of something heavy falling to the ground.  It seemed Ginny had tripped over something.

            "_YOU!!!_  Who the hell let _you in here?"  Or someone._

            "I'm a school prefect and, in case you haven't noticed, I'm cleaning up after my tutoring session, so bugger off."  Malfoy sounded royally ticked.

            "While the sight of you on your knees and scrubbing is endearing," came Ginny's venomous voice, "get the hell out of _my_ tutoring session and go kick puppies or sacrifice virgins or whatever else it is you do with your free time.  And don't _look_ at me like that!"

            "So get to being tutored and get the bloody hell away from me, Weaslette," he snarled.  

Standing by the door, Su gave a little giggle. "Right… about…"

            "Well, clearly, my tutors aren't here yet, and none of my fellow students seem to be around, do they, unless they have Invisibility Cloaks?" There was a crash as she angrily tossed her books on the table.  "So right now, it's just you and-"

            "Now," Su said smugly.

            "Oh no.  Oh no no no no _no_."  There was the sound of frantic running, and then pulling on the securely locked door.  A low moan came when she realized it wasn't moving.  "They wouldn't have!  Oh, I'll _kill_ them!  _DAMN IT!"_

            Malfoy's voice showed his temper was on edge.  "Are you telling me they _locked_ us in here?  You and me?  Locked in here?  Together?  Is that what you're trying to tell me!?"

            There was an angry stomp.  Su, still standing by the door, was now giggling into cupped hands.  She would have given just about anything to see this.  "No, Mal-ferret, I'm just trying to scare you shitless!  _Yes, that is what I'm telling you!"_

            Malfoy approached the door.  "Move it, Weaslette," he said angrily.  "Out of my way!  Stupid little girl, can't think on your feet _at all."  A moment, then, "Alohomora!"_

            The door stayed closed.

            "Oh yes, what a wonderful exhibition," Ginny cried.  "I'm sure sad I didn't think to make myself look like an absolute idiot!  They'll have locked it so we can't get out.  They're the _Charms tutors."_

            "I almost wish Longbottom was in here," Draco muttered, his voice promising nothing good when he got out again. "He can melt _cauldrons, he'd be able to melt __locks..."_

            There was a thump.  The door vibrated.

            "And charging the bloody door won't help you," Ginny continued, near hysterics now.  "And don't even bother calling for help-there will be a Silencing Charm on this room-"

            "Not yet, there isn't," Su whispered under her breath, rather flattered that Ginny thought so much of her abilities after all.

            "Weaslette."  There was a rustle-Malfoy was clearly getting up from his failed rushing of the door.  "Who.  The bloody.  Hell.  Are '_they'?_"

            "Warrington and Li," came Ginny's dispirited voice.  Clearly, she was falling into a belated state of shock.  "Damn their black souls to eternal damnation."

            "Silencio," Su whispered, and the sounds vanished, as though there had been a radio behind the door that had just been switched off.  "There, all finished," she said putting away her wand.  "I'll just let them out after prefect rounds in a few hours, shall I?  I suppose you'll cover for Malfoy's absence?"

            "How cultured, Li, locking them in a room together," Warrington said with a chuckle.

            "The tried and true method first," Su said staunchly.  "Then, if it doesn't work, we try something else.  Besides, this way, we're sure to get one thing or another out of it.  A murder isn't quite the result we're looking for, but it would liven things up considerably.  Moreover, I had to make damn sure we won today's game, or it wouldn't have worked.  I've a notion Finnegan might fancy her."  She smiled, and looked curiously towards the door.  "I rather do wonder what's going on in there."

            "I'll get it out of Malfoy at some point," Warrington said absently.

            "Why thank you," Su said.  "That's terribly gracious."

            "Who said I would tell you?"


	6. Falling for the First Time

~*Every Other Time*~

Chapter Six: Falling for the First Time

Thalia: Just because we're incredibly evil, we made two couples snog in this chapter. And yet, we don't quite resolve anything yet. We also add in lots of confusion and chaos, because that's what we do best. Oh yeah, and a blonde girl gets engaged to a dark Slytherin Quidditch player. But that might not be what it seems. Allow me to evilly laugh now. *bwhahahahahahaha*

Dove: Hurricane Su, incoming!  She's scary when she's unpredictable.  And besides that, what could be better than Draco/Ginny fanservice backed up with… other… entertainment?  Remember that broom closet I mentioned in my profile?  No, I was not joking…

Disclaimer: Thalia will continue the Warrington-takeover scheme after she stops working 14-hour shifts.

_"Anyone perfect must be lying_

_Anything easy has its toughs_

_Anyone plain can be lovely_

_Anyone loved can be lost_

_What if I lost my direction_

_What if I lost a sense of time_

_What if I nursed this infection_

_Maybe the worst is behind_

_It feels just like I'm falling for the first time_

_It feels just like I'm falling for the first time…"_

-Barenaked Ladies, "Falling for the First Time"

             "I'm first going to kill her. And then I'm going to kill him. And then I'm going to feed their dead bodies to Charlie's favourite dragon Strawberry Tart. And then I'm going to kill them again." Such were the mutterings from a certain frantic redhead's mouth as she paced back and forth, close to the wall of the room so as to not come close to Dr—MALFOY.

            Draco, although he was certainly thinking similarly dire things that he would like to do to a certain evil Ravenclaw Prefect and a certain equally evil Head Boy, kept these thoughts to himself and mustered up his best and most formidable sneer at the girl. "iolent one, aren't you, Weasel? And here's everyone thinking that you Gryffindorks are the nice and sweet and all-wonderful perfect people."

            Ginny whirled around, eyes blazing and fists clenched, and snipped out between gritted teeth, "I. Am stuck. For heaven knows how long. With a blond FERRET! Do not push it!"

             "Trust me, Weasel, I'm in no mood to be here, either," Draco snarled.

            "Well bloody fucking hell, when _are_ you in a 'mood' that isn't 'abominable' or 'pratlike' or 'rotten'?" Ginny scowled, hands on hips, "One would think that, for someone who continuously proclaims that he has everything and is better than everybody, you'd be bloody _happy_ for once. Merlin, don't you even know how to _smile!?_"

            And icy, remorseless Draco Malfoy, who only lived to tease and torment... stalked towards her, like a panther towards its prey, and she swallowed nervously at the look in his eyes.

            A look part bitter hatred and part a curious sort of longing, almost wistful if the intensity of his eyes hadn't made her cringe. He was a Death Eater's son. He would kill her. Prefect or not, he would...

            And she found herself gasping for air, then abruptly stopping that as parted lips only meant... as his own cold ones covered hers, searing and harsh and making her breathless... and with her wide-open eyes she could almost make out a hint of moisture on his pale eyelashes.

            And when he pulled away, his expression was savage and his voice low, chilling.

            "Don't talk about what you don't know, Virginia."

            She stumbled backwards, almost huddling against the wall of the room, wishing _wishing__ WISHING that she could leave and... and... he had just called her by her name. Her real name. Not "Ginny" or "Weaslette" or..._

            And he seemed to awaken, as if from a trance, and even as he clapped his fingertips over his lips, he backed away from her like from a burning flame.

            The silence in the room for the next two hours was deafening.

***

            Su took it philosophically when she was sent on rounds alone that night.  She was sure it was at least partly Warrington's doing, since she had volunteered to let the prisoners out once rounds were over.  Not only that, but, as Draco Malfoy was "sick", according to the very poker-faced Warrington, someone trustworthy had needed to be let out alone.  She wasn't entirely sure how she qualified for that, but apparently in the view of Angelina Johnson she was the best choice except Hermione Granger, who looked far too exhausted with all her homework to be let anywhere alone for a time, lest she fall asleep behind some convenient statue and miss her morning classes.

            Su wandered the halls conscientiously for an hour, then dropped into the kitchens, a location which she had once been shown by Cho, and weaseled a cherry turnover and a cup of coffee out of the house-elves.  The only thing of note she found all night was Echo Hayama of her own house, wearing toe shoes and jumping gracefully and relentlessly around one of the empty rooms on the fourth floor.  After sending the exhausted first year back to her dormitory with nothing than a soft warning to find a better time for ballet than the middle of the night, Su was left alone again.

            Looking at her watch a while later, she discovered it was nearing midnight and decided it was time to go unlock the door.  She giggled as she thought she was rather like a child at Christmas, waiting to open her most anticipated present.

            Approaching the door, she first removed the Silencing Charm.  Silence greeted her.  That was a bit of a surprise-she had almost expected them to be violently and loudly killing each other, or… well, whatever she had expected, it had not involved dead silence.

            She fiddled with the lock a moment, shot some more blue sparks at it, and opened the door.  Ginny looked to be sleeping in one corner, her arms wrapped around her knees, though her head jerked up at the slight creak of the hinges.  Draco was standing with his eyes carefully looking out the window.  He turned slowly, and for a few moments both of them watched Su, who was smiling slightly.  "Good evening, class," she said in her softest, most subservient-demure-little-Asian-genius voice.  "Won't you come out, or would you rather spend the night here?  Sleeping bags can be arranged."

            Wordlessly, Draco shoved past her and went stalking away, his Potions book and whatever else he had been using in his tutoring session inside his cauldron.  Ginny got up only after he was gone, picked up her books, and walked up to Su with a smile that was terrifying because her eyes were freezing and calculating.  "I'm terribly, terribly sorry," she said softly, "for so grossly underestimating you.  Rest assured, I shall not make the same mistake twice."  She brushed past and called over her shoulder without turning her head, "Have a good night, you black-hearted spawn of the devil."  With that, she was gone.

            "Well then," Su said to herself with a self-satisfied little smile.  "Not what I expected… but it will do."  Resolving to hassle the details out of Warrington later, she headed up to her dormitory, her mind already on the Ancient Runes homework she should have finished the night before.  She would very likely get no sleep at all.

            She detoured to the kitchen and picked up an entire pitcher of coffee.

***

            Su arrived at Prefect rounds a few days later quite determined to get the details, which by now she was dying to hear, from Warrington. After all, it _had_ been three days since Ginny Weasley and Draco Malfoy, the two of the tangible sexual tension, had been shut into that room. Surely Warrington, swarthy git though he certainly was, would have been able to glean some sort of useful information out of the younger Slytherin.

            Which was why she was quite surprised, and slightly dismayed... when all she saw of him at the beginning of said rounds... was his retreating back. Walking away from the rest of the group, next to a tall girl with a cascade of blonde hair, whom Su recalled as being Susannah Caligo, the sixth year Slytherin Prefect. Several other pairs had started to head off as well, Hermione Granger engaged in a deep and vociferous conversation on Calcular Studies within the subject of Arithmancy with Ravenclaw Zach Turpin.

            In the end, as Angelina Johnson and Kenneth Bundy of Hufflepuff walked off towards the direction of the Charms corridor, Su gave a slight sigh, and made her way towards Draco Malfoy, a very demure, bland sort of expression on her face.

            "Well, I suppose it's us, then." Her voice was soft as cotton candy, "Shall we?"

            Draco's face was somewhat paler than usual, and at the sight of her approaching him, two slight red spots grew on his high cheekbones. But he remained stonily silent, jaw clenched so tightly that Su was sure it would be sore in minutes, hands balled into fists as he walked alongside her.

            "Fine weather we're having, hmm?" Su asked airily, with a slight smile.

            He muttered something unintelligible and lapsed into cold silence again. Su grinned somewhat to herself. So something _had happened, that was for sure. Something serious._

            It was really too bad that she didn't know what it was. That Warrington probably knew... and that she had not yet been able to get this information out of him (especially due to circumstances apparently outside of her control)... was more than a little irritating.

            Rounds passed quite boringly, much to her disappointment. Draco Malfoy, for all his willingness to snipe at Harry Potter and his friends, was silent as a clam around her, the only indication of his towering rage the venomous expression in his eyes. There were no words, except a few rebukes at students wandering around after curfew. Nevertheless, hoping to get some sort of reaction, Su smiled at her uncommunicative partner at every opportunity.

            Finally, at midnight, they returned to where they started, and Su looked at the determinedly-scowling Draco with wide, innocent dark eyes. "Oh, dear... please don't tell me you chickened out on that opportunity we so carefully arranged for you! You're not scaring me, you know... so you might as well thank me for the help!"

            Draco did no such thing, and merely turned on his heel and made his coldly furious way back to the Slytherin common room.

            "Such a pigheaded boy," Su sighed to herself, rolling her eyes. "I wonder if the others are going to pass here from rounds... might be able to get something out of Warrington if he comes along..."

            She didn't have long to wait. The unmistakable, slightly mocking baritone voice resounded down the hall, even as the sound of footsteps approached. "Grinning ear to ear, I see, Susie," he was saying, and there was the sound of melodious feminine laughter.

            _Susie?!_

            Su quickly stepped behind a pillar, and watched, eyes widening, as Warrington and Susannah Caligo, the latter laughing heartily (something Su had never seen from the dignified girl), came down the hallway. "What did you expect, Cass?" She poked Warrington in the ribs. "Of course I'd be happy! I'm ecstatic and it's not really sunk in yet and..."

            _CASS?!?_

            "It's certainly quite the sight to see you like this," Warrington chuckled, before slinging an arm around her and lifting her up, tossing her over his shoulder and laughing all the while. "Floating on air and all that, eh?"

            "_CASS! Set me down this very instant!" Caligo was protesting, even though she was still laughing, hitting rather ineffectually with her fists at the young man's shoulders. "You're making a scene!"_

            "But there's no one around," he replied easily, continuing towards Slytherin. "Besides, you could use a little loosening up once in a while."

            Su watched as they disappeared around the corner, and there was one image in her mind... something that her eyes had riveted to, as Warrington had lifted Susannah and the blonde had swatted at his shoulders.

            Something sparkling, winking almost tauntingly on the Slytherin girl's slender finger. What looked quite alarmingly like an engagement ring.

            And then it was that she realized... that neither of the Slytherins had even noticed her.

***

            In the Slytherin common room, there was a party going on.  Mostly this wasn't a common occurrence, but there was good reason today, and everyone was in a somewhat-goofy mood more usually attributed to Gryffindors.

            Susannah Caligo and Alexander Montague were in the middle of it all, both grinning rather foolishly, especially Susannah, who had been glowing since the moment she had received what was, in fact, an engagement ring.  There was food, of course-someone had gotten the house-elves to bring it up and serve, so that no one had to run around themselves.  Still, there was laughter, butterbeer, and someone (mostly no one asked who) had somehow managed to get champagne in, and wasn't limiting it to those students who were over the age of seventeen and therefore considered adults.  A few of the younger students seemed quite inclined to take advantage of this, but then, they were Slytherins, whatever their mood.

            "Montague, a moment," Warrington called from where he was lounging against a wall with a half-empty glass.

            Montague obediently got up from next to Susannah, giving her hand a small squeeze before heading over towards the Quidditch captain, his expression questioning.  "Yes, Cassius?" he asked.  "I assume you're going to threaten to kill me now?"

            "Not quite," Warrington said with a smirk.  "The fact is, Susannah's happy… at moment.  Do try to keep her that way, won't you?"  He gave something of a nod in the girl's direction.  "She's my favorite cousin.  I would hate to have to kill you for treating her badly."

            "And the ceremony is completed with a death threat," Montague said blandly.  "Not to worry, Warrington.  She'll stay happy, and the only person present who you might need to worry about killing is Malfoy, who's been, if possible, more sulky than before, and is now doing his damndest to deplete the stores of champagne."

            "I'll worry about Malfoy," Warrington said with a genial smile.  "You worry about Susannah."

            Montague actually flashed a grin and grasped Warrington's hand to shake it a moment.  "Will do, Captain."

***

            The Ravenclaw common room was nowhere near so cheerful.  The few students that were up were mostly quiet, and Su was methodically working her way through her Ancient Runes and her pot of coffee.  There was a small line between her brows pointing at deep concentration.  Calista was across the couch from her with what looked like a book on rare Potions, and both girls were content to be quiet, as long as Calista didn't reach for the coveted coffee.

            It was around three when Su set her book aside and stood up to stretch a moment.  Calista raised her eyes curiously.  "Tired?"

            "You've no idea," Su said exhaustedly.  "And it's only about halfway over.  Being a Prefect has its drawbacks."

            Calista nodded.  "How did your… tutoring session… go a few days ago?  I never did have a chance to ask.  Ginny clams up if you or Warrington or, heaven forbid, Malfoy, are brought up.  I haven't gotten anything out of her, however I've tried."

            This brought Su back to the reality of the scene in the hallway, and she scowled.  "Well, until our oh-so-considerate Head Boy _tells_ me, I'm afraid I can't help you."

            Just then, their portrait hole opened, and a sullen Terry Boot entered.  "Sorry, girls, no pie tonight."

            "No _pie?_" One of the younger students called, obviously distraught.

            "Engagement party in the Slytherin dungeon, far as I can tell," Terry said tiredly.  "The kitchen's cleaned out, and half the elves are missing, to boot.  Maybe tomorrow."

            There was a charmed kind of silence as Su looked at Terry, her face blank, but her eyes snapping.  "Engagement party?" she asked in a voice far too soft to be natural.

            "That's what they said, Su," Terry said, wondering if he could escape back out of the portrait hole before she went berserk and attempted to kill the messenger.

            "I… see," she said softly.

            "Who's engaged?  Who's engaged!?"  There were shouts from every direction, mostly aimed at her rather than Terry, as it seemed she knew what was going on.

            "It appears," she said, in that very soft voice, "to be Susannah Caligo.  And Cassius Warrington."  She dropped back down on the couch, yanked her book towards her, and pretended not to notice anything else around her.

            "Susannah and Warrington?" Calista said, surprised.  "But aren't they-"  Suddenly she reconsidered her latest sentence and swallowed a laugh.  "Don't mind her, Terry," she said when the boy settled down next to her.  "She's just jealous and pretending she isn't."

            "Jealous?" he asked, surprised.

            "Oh, indeed," Calista said with a sickeningly sweet little smile.  "Indeed, yes."

            Watching Su Li be completely wrong was, after all, a wonderfully novel experience.

***

            Warrington, reflecting not for the first time that alcohol had its uses, strode down the hallway Sunday evening before dinner, idly twirling a Quidditch book on the tip of one finger and mulling over what he'd recently found out.

            He wasn't sure whether to be proud of his sulky teammate for actually doing something with the golden opportunity that Li, conniving little wench, had given him... or to be exasperated that Malfoy, _after all that, went back to almost studiously avoiding the Gryffindor. What a shame... to think that he'd live to see the day when a Malfoy practically _feared_ the presence of a Weasley._

            A rather familiar head of fluffy, short blonde hair appeared in his vision, close by a corridor that led to the faculty quarters, strictly sealed off, and he slowed down. "And what might you be doing here, young Ravenclaw?" he asked softly, staring down at her. "This isn't your sort of neighborhood."

            She seemed... odd, somehow. The expression, still somewhat demure and veiledly mischievous, but there was an odd tension in the way she stood, and when she spoke, her voice was just a touch too bright. "I'm all right, you swarthy git. See, no missing limbs, no monsters popping up to harass me... unless you count."

             "I could, I suppose," he replied blandly, smirking, "and I appreciate the compliment."

             "What compliment?" she bared her teeth sweetly.

            "My, aren't we feisty tonight," he said carelessly, reaching out in a now-habitual gesture to ruffle her hair, noting she stiffened for a moment before slapping his hand away, and wondering.  "Our job with the terrible twosome isn't yet done… aren't we still in a truce period?"

            "You haven't told me yet what happened," she said in that same sweet voice.  "Therefore, I could only infer that you were gloating, and planning on taking all the credit for yourself."

            "Now, that wouldn't be fair."  He thought about it for a moment.  "I was just… busy.  And hadn't gotten the information you desire until very recently, when a half-pissed Draco Malfoy hastened to tell me all his secrets."

            "I am well aware you have a life outside of evil, Warrington, thank you," she said snappishly.

            He shook his head.  "So uptight tonight, Li.  You're acting nearly as ridiculous as some of the pathetically lovesick members of my house."  Her head jerked up, her eyes burning and… he could have sworn a faint flush on that perfect poker face.  "You, of all people, I expected more from."

            She shrugged.  "I'm human too.  I have my bad days."  There was silence for a few moments.  "So, are you planning on telling me, then, or was all of that an elaborate introduction to you walking away and laughing maniacally while I'm left wondering just what the hell?"

            "Tempting as that is…" Warrington said with a chuckle.  "Really, what's gotten into you?"

            "I assume that means you're not telling me after all," she said resignedly.  "Well, I suppose I can guess."

            His curiosity piqued, he grinned down at her.  "Oh, can you really?"  He leaned casually against the convenient doorway on his side of the hall, and watched her inquisitively.  "How, pray tell, did it play out in that depraved little mind of yours?"

            For a moment her eyes glinted.  "You want my theory, do you, Warrington?"

            "I suppose it might be enlightening to the way you think if you tell me how it went," he said with a laugh.

            And then… well, he wasn't sure whether he was surprised she had the strength to push him backwards into the door, which happened to be cracked open, or to crack his head rather painfully against what, in the darkness, seemed to be a broom handle.  Before he managed to say anything, she was suddenly much closer than she had ever previously been, and he was only to wonder at the slightly exotic scent he had not noticed before, coming from her hair, before she was very suddenly kissing him… very unlike a little girl.

            The shock of her lips on his, her hands fisted in the back of his robes, blanked his mind for a full three heartbeats.  Just as he was recovering from the reeling, she was suddenly gone, and then a pain in his cheek as well as a resounding crack clued him in to the fact that he had just been rather forcefully slapped.  In the dark of the broom closet, he could only really make out eyes, sparkling with something he couldn't quite name.  "Something like that," she said, slightly breathless.  "With slight variations available upon request."

            With that, she whirled away and out the door and by the sound of running footsteps down the hall it was obvious she was getting out of there as quickly as was possible.

            Leaving Cassius Warrington half-sprawled in the janitorial broom closet, his mind quite unable to wrap itself around anything but _"What the hell!?"_


	7. Something to Talk About

~*Every Other Time*~

Chapter Seven: Something to Talk About

Dove: May I just say I nearly ran myself off the road when I heard this song on the radio and suddenly thought of this fic?  Too… too… perfect.  No snogging in this chapter, sorry, but it's wildly amusing, anyway, and watching Warrington so completely… _lost_… is beyond priceless.  Laugh until you cry.

Thalia: Warrington, despite being rather discombobulated in this chapter, will get back to being his gitty self in the next chapter, I promise. He's _mine after all *shifty eyes*. And... well. Hmm... what else? Oh, and although we're not quite desperate enough to pimp him out for sexual favours in return for reviews yet, reviews are welcomed with squeeing anyway. Yes. Read and giggle and review. You know the drill._

Disclaimer: If we owned Harry Potter, we would probably forbid Sirius/Remus slash.  Opinions on whether or not this would be a good thing tend to vary…

_"People are talkin, talking 'bout people_

_I hear them whisper, you won't believe it_

_They think we're lovers kept under covers_

_I just ignore it, but they keep saying_

_We laugh just a little too loud_

_We stand just a little too close_

_We stare just a little too long_

_Maybe they're seeing something we don't, darlin'_

_Let's give them something to talk about..."_

-Bonnie Raitt, "Something to Talk About"

            There lingered the taste of apples on his lips and a sting on his cheek. And for once, Cassius Warrington really, _really _had nothing to say.

            While a good part of him wondered if she were possessed, or perhaps it was actually a Polyjuice clone of Su Li and not the real girl, deep down he understood that it couldn't have been. Polyjuice could clone physical attributes, but despite the complete bizarreness of the encounter, it was still her. Mad, crazy, perhaps-not-necessarily-a-little-girl Su Li.

            Why Su Li, of all people, had pulled _him_, of all people, into a broom closet to... to snog senseless... now _that_ was something he had yet to figure out.

            And perhaps, he figured as he rubbed the back of his head where it had hit a broom handle... perhaps Filch's closet might not be the best place to... at least attempt to contemplate this mystery.

            It was just his luck that Susannah Caligo, unwittingly part of the reason to the whole scenario that was failing to compute in his mind, happened down the hallway at that exact moment, along with Emma Dobbs.

            Neither of the two girls were expecting him to stumble, looking rather dazed, out of a broom closet.

            They stopped walking and quite unabashedly stared.

            Emma took a long look at him, then at the copy of _Quidditch Enthusiasts' Encyclopedia he still held, completely forgotten, in his hand, and raised an eyebrow. "Rather an unusual location to plan strategies for our House team, captain... but whatever works, I suppose."_

            "Somehow, I don't think that he was studying," Susannah remarked, eyeing her cousin curiously. "Cass, what _were_ you doing in there?"

            For a long time, Cassius did not speak. Finally, he shook his head, and uttered a wry, "Don't ask, Susie... just... don't ask. When I somehow manage to make sense of the last ten or so minutes of my life, I'll get back to you... I think."

            And as Warrington, still looking quite remarkably discombobulated, walked off silently towards the Slytherin common room, Emma Dobbs glanced at Susannah Caligo, blue eyes questioning. "Are all our boys becoming daft? Is whatever Malfoy's got a contagious epidemic?!"

            "I don't think my cousin would ever be quite as daft as Malfoy," Susannah said loyally. "Well. At least not in _that way."_

            Emma glanced at the older girl rather dubiously. "I've heard whisperings from the Ravenclaws in my Defense class that his deliberate baiting of Su Li is... er... rather reckless and inconducive to his health."

            "Oh, he knows that. He also once put sea urchins in my nanny's knicker drawer when he visited about ten years ago." Susannah shrugged slightly. "She was one of those types to make _Filch_ look friendly and genial. Cassius didn't like her much. Perhaps it was because she threatened to use thumbscrews on him that motivated him to put sea urchins... but I digress. Speaking of Su Li, she probably... no... almost _certainly_ had something to do with our esteemed Head Boy's current state of shock."

             "Oh?" Emma noticed the very decided expression on Susannah's face. "Why do you say that?"

            "Well," Susannah gave a slight wave of a slender, ring-adorned hand, "it's only fair and logical. Just as Cassius is the only one to deliberately brass off Su Li despite knowing better, it would only make sense that she would be the only one capable of flabbergasting him completely."

            "Good point," Emma conceded thoughtfully. "Now the question is... how do we find out what exactly happened?"

            "We stand back out of range and wait for the inevitable explosive showdown in the Great Hall."

***

            The prophesied showdown didn't go quite as Susannah planned.  In fact, technically speaking, it didn't go at all.

            The next morning, when Cassius Warrington entered the Great Hall for breakfast, it was still mostly empty.  Having slept very little and being in a confused mood, he settled, poured himself a cup of coffee, and attempted to think.

            Su Li.  Broom closet.  Snogging.  The taste of apples.  Sparkling eyes.  Slapping.  Why?  Maybe because… why?

            All right, so it didn't make any more sense than it had last night, after all.

            He turned as Alexander Monatague settled next to him and pulled the coffeepot towards himself.  "Good morning," Montague said cheerfully.

            "Being engaged doesn't agree with you," Warrington said sourly.  "You're… peppy.  Like a third-year Hufflepuff with a love letter.  It's not the most pleasant sight of a morning.  It must be bad for the digestion."

            Montague laughed.  "And you're in a rare mood today.  Susannah said something about that… care to share?"

            "Tell me, Montague," Warrington said.  "Hypothetically speaking, if a girl who had never shown any interest in you nearly gave you a concussion to knock you down and snog you, followed by slapping you and walking away as though nothing had happened, what would you make of it?"

            Montague let out a loud guffaw.  "Oh no, Cassius, this is just too priceless.  What girl managed to knock you down and lived to tell the tale?"

            "I'm speaking hypothetically," Warrington said as calmly as he could.  "I _could_ be speaking of Malfoy and his little flame."

            "But Malfoy's the desperate one, not the little Gryffindor," Montague said with a grin.  "It stands to reason that he would be the one doing the pouncing."

            "So the hypothetical girl is hypothetically desperate, in your opinion?"

            "Some very _real_ girl is quite _something to get you in this state, in my opinion," Montague stated._

            "Never mind," Warrington said crossly.  "Just… never mind."  What he thought of as the Ravenclaw Delegation had just entered the room.  Cho Chang, of course, followed by Calista Green, and that little Japanese girl who he didn't know… Padma Patil, Mandy Brocklehurst, and... Su Li.  "If you'll excuse me, I have some business to take care of."  He stood and headed to the Ravenclaw table.

            By the time he got there, Su was settled in comfortably with a cup of green tea and a very blank expression.  He didn't like the fact that she was surrounded by girls and he was quite alone.  He didn't like the fact that he had to stand and look down at her.  He didn't like… a lot of things.

            "Good morning, Warrington."

            Like that very, _very_ bland expression and voice.

            "What the hell, Li?" he said quietly.

            "What the hell what, Warrington?" she asked.

            "Why?" he said, trying to keep his thought rational.  He would not put his hands around her neck and shake her until she answered him properly.  He would not be undignified.

            "I assume you're referring to my… theory?" she said with a little smile.  That gleam he had seen yesterday in her eyes was back for a moment before she extinguished it.  "You asked for my opinion on the matter.  I thought it best to demonstrate.  Was my hypothesis inaccurate?"

            Hell with dignity.  "That is _not what I __mean."  He slammed his fist on the table._

            Her lips curved upward in a feline little smile.  "We have an audience.  Would you really like to discuss this here?"

            No. He would _not_ let her... mad Ravenclaw... get the last word. Pasting a smirk upon his face, he crossed his arms and straightened, looking down into her face with a half smarmy, half haughty sort of expression. "Well. For your sake, little girl, and that reputation that you might for some reason still want to maintain, perhaps it's best that we do not discuss the activities of yesterday, endlessly fascinating thought they might be, here in front of your little... group. What_ever would they think of it?"_

            "They would likely wish for cameras to record your obvious lack of composure over a... little girl."

            "Well," Warrington raised an eyebrow, "flattered though I certainly am by your little demonstration yesterday, most wouldn't dare to do such a thing with me in such a... bold manner. But I suppose you're the exception to that. But tell me, Li, is it something you do to all, or an honour reserved for me?"

            "Wouldn't you like to know," she replied archly.

            "Not really," he lied through his teeth. "I suppose that, all things considered, it would be ungentlemanly to protest such actions on your part, insane though they obviously are. Good day, Li."

            Feeling as though he'd somewhat regained some "footing" in this increasingly bizarre almost-duel that he'd been engaged in with her, he reached over, blithely ignoring Terry Boot's suspicious looks, ruffled her hair, and walked back towards the Slytherin table.

            Su Li's eyes kept their smug gleam... until the Slytherin boy had returned to his table and sat back down...

            Next to Susannah Caligo, who was daintily sipping her pumpkin juice, engagement ring winking on her finger.

            It was just his type of girl... tall, blonde, elegant, Slytherin... Susannah Caligo said something to him, which prompted him to roll his eyes slightly and tug on the end of her golden hair, arranged in a lustrous braid.

            Su did her best not to pout.  So she was short.  And in Ravenclaw.  And looked rather young.  And… well, come to think of it, she _was_ blonde.

            Lot of good it did her.

            She felt a light tugging on her sleeve, and belatedly noticed that Echo Hayama was addressing her curiously. "Yes?"

            "Why do you glare at the blonde Slytherin girl?" The first-year's eyes were wide. "She isn't Benedick Jeunet. So, not bad person."

            "Not bad," Su said through clenched teeth.  "Simply irritating."

            Up at the Gryffindor table, Ginny Weasley was drinking tea, eating an apple, and exuding such an aura of "don't-touch-me-or-you-will-die" that she was quite free to think of whatever she liked.

            For instance, how to make a certain Ravenclaw and Slytherin wish they hadn't been born.

            And she had just gotten a very, very interesting idea.

***

            "Malfoy."

            He whirled around to come face to face with her.  Damn her!  What was she doing down _here!?_  "Weaslette, I warned you before to stay away," he said, his voice icy.  "Do yourself a favor and go to Snape's class, which is the only sane thing I can think of for you to do in the dungeons."

            "Listen, stop being an ass for all of five minutes, all right?  Do you _want Warrington and Li to keep hounding us?"_

            "They will, whether or not I want them to," Draco said with a snarl.  "If that's all, will you just go away?"

            "I think they're having a bit of an issue at the moment.  If exploited, it could possibly have the effect of making them far too busy to bother us, therefore ensuring you don't have to see me and constantly work on keeping your damned hormones in check."  She glared at him.  "And failing, for the most part.  Well?"

            He looked up at her curiously, inwardly seething that she had hit the nail on the head.  "You kissed back," he threw at her.  "It isn't just _my hormones that need checking."_

            To his great pleasure, she turned as red as a tomato.  "The hell I did."

            "The hell you _did_," he insisted.  "What kind of… exploitation… do you have in mind?"

***

            Calista Green was having the time of her life.  First of all, watching Su go by turns jealous and by turns satisfied was wildly entertaining.  Second, watching Warrington shift just as quickly between confused and angry was even better.  And, of course, there was the added issue that there was markedly less hostility between Ginny and Malfoy all of a sudden.  All the spare hostility seemed to be directed at Su and Warrington instead.

            Too, too perfect.

            "Su, did you _really_ snog Cassius Warrington?"  Calista's head shot up to behold Lisa Turpin.  Who seemed to have this on excellent authority.

            To her credit, Su kept mostly a calm expression.

            "Didn't you say he was engaged to Susannah Caligo?" Lisa continued.  "And then you… that wasn't very nice, Su.  Did you really, really do it?"

            "Who has been putting these thoughts into your head?" Su asked calmly.  "Why would I snog Warrington?  Isn't it the general consensus that I am out to kill him?"

            "Oh please, that was last week," Lisa said.  "Everyone's talking about this now!"

            "Who's everyone, Lisa?" Su said, closing her book.

            "Well, _everyone_," Lisa said, her eyes surprised.  "I had it from… oh… Parvati Patil and Emma Dobbs and… some little Hufflepuff I didn't even _know…"_

            Just then, Terry Boot slammed into the common room.  "Cassius _Warrington_, Su?  I thought you had _taste.  And isn't he engaged?  Do you __want to be known as a homewrecker at the age of fifteen?"_

            Sarah Fawcett came down the stairs from her dormitory, looking smug.  "So, you get on my case for inappropriate behaviour, yet you do the exact same thing… and with a _Slytherin.  Saint Su… well, I suppose _that_ illusion is over."  She flipped her hair.  "I'm going out to meet Johnny."  With that, she was gone._

            "Where… did all this come from?" Calista said, wide-eyed.  True enough, she had been up in the dormitories all day due to a small head cold, but this…

            "I suspect it came from Ginny Weasley," Su said softly.  "And whoever she has working for her in Slytherin, since they wouldn't know anything the Gryffindors were talking about, and vice versa."  She stood as well.  "I think… I have to think for a while."

            "I take that to mean you actually did it?"

            Su smiled thinly.  "Oh yes.  Yes, I did.  But ruining my carefully laid illusion… oh no.  I won't be so nice this time."

***

            Cassius Warrington was in the middle of an essay on Countercurses when he felt a slight tap on his shoulder. "What is it, and whose life must I wreak havoc on _now?_"

            Emma's voice was bland and calm, but slightly tinged with amusement. "Er, nothing. Just thought that you might like to know that your little target for the past few days has been looking smug recently. And I don't think Weasley's started voluntarily snogging him yet."

            "He'd disappoint me if he didn't try at all to make my life miserable after I'd helped him out, perish the thought," Warrington replied idly. "I've other things to worry about at the moment, though."

            "Oh, such as the fact that he is telling everyone that you pulled Su Li into that broom closet to snog her senseless?"

            Warrington looked up very slowly from his Defense textbook, and his eyes were wide. "Who said anything about Su Li? I've this essay that I have to finish before rounds tonight!"

            "Oh, right..." Emma walked away slightly, and murmured to herself, "So that when you and the Ravenclaw do finish rounds, you can go shag somewhere and not worry about staying out all night. How utterly far-thinking you are..."

            "Shagging her is, I believe, rather out of the question." The Head Boy looked at the younger girl, "Especially when there's so much other stuff to do."

            "Not just simple shagging, then? I don't think I want to know."

            "Probably not," Warrington agreed. Huh... so Malfoy was playing the rumour game, hmm? Really, the boy had to come up with a better strategy than _that._

***

            "Ahem."

            "Yes, Cho?" Su looked up from the book on Dark creatures that she'd been idly flipping through.

            "You've been acting somewhat peculiar," the older girl started, a look of gentle worry in her brown eyes. "Especially around Warrington, whom, from what it had seemed earlier in the year, you wanted to kill. Is there anything you wish to talk about?"

            Su put her book on her bedside table.  Fortunately, the dormitory was empty except for Lisa, and after a look from Cho, the other girl scurried out, looking like she wished she could stay to eavesdrop.  "Nothing the whole school hasn't already mangled beyond any recognition as the truth."  She was calm about it now, after spending the evening studying in her dormitory and threatening Lisa with a Silencing Charm if she was bothered.  After all, the rumour mill was something she used quite frequently and with as great effect as it appeared Ginny was having.  It didn't change the fact that for impeaching on what was certainly Su's personal territory the girl had to pay… but Su had to give her credit nonetheless.  "Did you want the original version?  The one I heard an hour ago about me carrying his illegitimate child is more interesting, if wildly inaccurate."

            Swallowing a laugh, Cho sat down and tucked her legs under her on Su's bed.  "I assume you did _something that these rumours started, however?"_

            "What I did and the fact that the rumours started don't seem to have much in common," Su said with a shrug.  "They're mostly the fault of Virginia Weasley, one rather bright, if vengeful Gryffindor.  As for what I did… well, it was for my own purposes."

            Cho grinned and looked at the younger girl.  "Echo said to watch and make sure you didn't sneak out to kill Susannah Caligo in her sleep."  Her grin widened.  "Those perfect, elegant, blonde types are so very annoying, aren't they?"

            Despite herself, Su grinned as well.  "Yet you're friends with the blondest, most perfect one."

            "Oh, you remember quite well that I hated Professor Delacour madly when she was simply a student."

            Su was silent for a moment, then her eyes widened as though something in her mind had finally clicked.  "Roger _Davies," she said.  "Of __course!"_

            Cho shook her head.  "I knew you'd figure it out eventually.  You've been occupied with other things lately.  But… well."  She shook her head.  "We're not here to talk about me _or to talk about Roger.  We're here to talk about you, and Susannah Caligo.  Is there a particular reason she irritates you?"_

            Su looked at Cho as though the other had just said something extraordinarily stupid.  "Cho, you've _heard what everyone and their sister has to say about me being crazy about Cassius Warrington.  The rumours may be wildly exaggerated, but they _are_ based on truth."_

            "And this has to do with Susannah… how exactly?" Cho asked, equally confused.  "I don't quite understand."

            "For Merlin's sake, Cho, you're not _stupid_," Su said with a glare.   "Warrington and Caligo are _engaged_."

            There was silence for a few moments.  Cho did her best to hold back the gales of laughter.  This really was déjà vu.  "No, Su," she said slowly.  "They most certainly are _not_."

            "Then why, pray tell, does he carry her around and call her Susie in corridors late at night when no one can see, and she wears an engagement ring?"

            Cho couldn't manage to control the laughter after all.  After giggling helplessly for a few moments, she spoke again.  "Because Susannah Caligo recently got engaged to Alexander Montague.  Seeing as Warrington is her first cousin, it's quite likely he'd have a great deal of affection and even a nickname for her… but not very likely he'd marry her, whatever they say about Slytherins.  From what I understand, they grew up together."

            Su very nearly fell off the bed.

            "Well… _hell_."


	8. Every Other Time

~*Every Other Time*~

Chapter Eight: Every Other Time

Thalia: Slytherin females are scary. Somehow I think that Seamus, next time he encounters a boggart, shall _not_ be seeing a banshee. Oh yes, my pet swarthy git is slowly but surely sinking. Enjoy!

Dove: Thalia forgot to mention that Neville/Pansy prevails in here, of which SHIP she is mistress (whatever anyone else says).  I worship her ^_^.  And we don't see Su.  All chapter.  No, really.  But chapter nine… *EVIL GRIN*

Disclaimer: We don't own the characters themselves. We only own their terrifying snarkiness.

_"Sometimes its black  
Sometimes its white_

_Sometimes she's wrong_

_Sometimes I'm right_

_Sometimes we talk about it or we figure it out_

_But then she just changed her mind_

_Sometimes she's hot_

_Sometimes I'm cold_

_Sometimes my head wants to explode_

_But when I think about it_

_I'm so in love with her_

_Every other time…"_

-LFO, "Every Other Time"

            He was busy. He was a seventh year student, Head Boy, and the teachers _were rather demanding. Which was why he was compulsively scribbling down facts and ingredients and theories and even history in what would be a magnificent Potions essay on the uses of dragon's blood versus the uses of unicorn horn. Yes. Of course. He wasn't being infected by Ravenclaw diseases of _any_ sort. And certainly, studiousness wasn't transferrable by mouth-to-mouth contact, anyway!_

            And no, he _wasn't_ avoiding questions, either!

_            "...One of the numerous uses that dragon's blood has, which is certainly not characteristic of unicorn horn, is the use in love and harmony potions. Whereas dragons symbolize, to an extent, fire and emotion, unicorns are cool and distant. Although love potions are technically illegal, certain altered, diluted versions are used by several occupations to ensure good feelings. For example, in the mental wards of several major hospitals and infirmaries..."_

 (Or perhaps it had been slipped into Li's daily cup of green tea?)

 All right, this was starting to get aggravating. Li had no _business_ to barge into his thoughts when he was working. Narrowing his eyes slightly, he continued to write.

            With his excellent sense of self-control, he managed to focus on his Potions essay for a good additional twenty minutes before he was interrupted again, this time not by unwelcome thoughts. A melodious, if slightly mincing voice, sounded quite close to his ear. "Hello, Cass."

            "You're not one of the very, very few people who are allowed to call me that, Tracey," Cassius remarked blandly, not looking up from where he was writing about bone-knitting potions which contained unicorn horn. "So I suggest you desist before you start annoying me. Is there any reason you wish to interrupt my work?"

            "Oh, you're being no fun," Tracey said, sitting down with the air of a queen in the armchair across from his. "Since when did _you_ become such a bookworm?"

            "Don't be daft," Cassius finally met the girl's eyes. She was in fifth year, though rather more mature than most. Also generally acknowledged as one of the best-dressed girls of the school. She languidly flicked a few long, shiny platinum ringlets behind a chiffon-covered shoulder, and gave him a slightly coquettish look. "You don't see me panicking about N.E.W.T.s yet. Although some others, like Granger, are probably doing that already. Now, is there anything else, or might I be allowed to finish this essay and move onto other things?"

            "Might those other things involve me?" Tracey asked airily, inspecting her perfectly manicured fingernails.

            "Is there any reason they should?" This conversation, to be honest, was getting a bit tiresome for him. It wasn't so much Tracey flirting with him... Tracey enjoyed flirting, and practiced what she considered her art on several males. And it wasn't _quite_... usual, either. He got his share of appreciative glances and comments, from subtle to blatant, from various females. But Tracey was rather wasting his time, and wasting her own... it wasn't like he'd ever consider starting anything with her...

            Of course, she was physically attractive, reasonably good humoured... but...

            Somewhat boring?

            He could see only one result from a relationship with her. Increasing boredom and inattention and exasperation on his part, increasing histrionics and drama on hers, ending with an ugly scene in which he'd give some curt, generic "I don't think it's working out" speech, she'd burst into hysterical tears, and the Slytherin girls of her year would all attempt to slap him. Not that he'd let them.

            Li wasn't a Slytherin girl.

            Not that she had _anything_ to do with his... personal life.

            Not really.

            Really. No.

            Making some distant, vague statement about _really_ needing to finish his essay, he turned away from Tracey and started glaring at the parchment with more virulence than either dragon's blood or unicorn horn, however they'd offended him, deserved.

            Li and his personal life did not go into one sentence.

            _DAMN._

            "Well, if it isn't Slytherin's new brooding hero."  Again, he ended up looking up from his essay to behold Malfoy looking a great deal more satisfied than he had any right to look, considering he was still skulking about watching the little Gryffindor from the shadows and battling what had been diagnosed by the Slytherins as massive sexual frustration.  Warrington considered asking him if he had finally given in to Bulstrode and rejected the idea.

             "So, how's it feel when it's you?" Malfoy continued.  "Rather unpleasant, I expect."

            Clearly, something much less… nice… was needed.

            "Ah, Malfoy, considering I don't go around forcing myself on girls deemed unsuitable by fathers who are already on the fringe of madness, or resort to first year retaliation plans… I assume I feel a great deal better than you."  He shrugged.  "And at least my alternatives are a great deal more attractive than Millicent Bulstrode.  After all, it's the girls who chase me."  He smirked.  "Not the other way around."

            Draco's anger was apparent by the two spots of color blooming on his pale cheeks, but he didn't say anything.

            "Frankly, Malfoy, amusing as your game is, it isn't going to have any grand-scale effect on my life.  As for crowing over some small imagined victory, save it until the little Gryffindor stops hating the ground you walk on, would you?"  He turned back to his book.  "I've an essay to finish.  Has anyone else got some urgent business with me, or may I get back to it?"

            No one answered and he returned to his essay.  Emma Dobbs, who was getting Susannah to teach her some basic fencing (a part of her education that had been sadly neglected at home) in the corner, remarked to the older girl softly, "Do you rather get the idea he's defending himself to… himself, rather than Malfoy?"

            "Of course.  Put more strength into that.  Your hand angle is slightly wrong."  Adjusting Emma's hand, Susannah was smiling.  "If it was just Malfoy, he wouldn't bother defending himself at all.  Try it again."

            Emma repeated the pass, perfectly this time.  "Thought so."

            Draco Malfoy, not getting a satisfyingly flustered or angered sort of reaction out of the-Scheming-Head-Boy-of-Doom, did the masculine equivalent of flouncing off, in search of better company. Blaise, unfortunately, was nowhere to be found, though it was probably the case that he had to finish the Ancient Runes homework that he'd put off 'til today, and was tucked away in the library somewhere, having cursed all the chairs by his table to attack anyone who disturbed his royally whipped procrastinating genius.

            His eyes lit upon Pansy Parkinson, one of the few sensible girls in his house and year, lounging on a chair close to the common room entrance and idly charming her fingernails a bright pink. "Pansy!" he greeted politely and charmingly. "How've you been?"

            Pansy gave him one piercing look, and without a word, backed out of the door, waving her wand behind her back even as she walked out, apparently in a hurry.

            A few wisps of smoke in the air, apparently from her wand, formed into coherent words a moment later. "Whiners are avoided like the plague." Draco scowled darkly before rushing towards the entrance and yanking it open.

            "WELL THAT WAS RUDE! YOU DON'T _WANT_ TO SEE BULSTRODE RAPING ME, REALLY!"

            Pansy's retreating back shook with a snigger as she quickly walked down the hall.

            Perhaps it was because Malfoy had, to an extent, chased after her to whine, or perhaps it was the entire hilarity of the behaviour of Slytherin boys recently. Certainly, it was not because of the six inch high heels on her feet that Pansy, striding down the hallway, managed to crash in a most undignified manner into Neville Longbottom, who was for some reason completely unfathomable to the sensible universe voluntarily walking towards the Slytherin dungeons.

            But because of the aforementioned behaviour of Malfoy, et cetera... Pansy did not do more than glare and remark that he should watch out where he was going, when a somewhat terrified-looking Longbottom timidly reached out a hand to help her back up, studiously avoiding looking at the scary high heels.

            "I'm... sorry?" Neville's voice held the slightest squeak as he tried to calculate the amount of time it would take him to run, without accidents, out of hexing range.

             "I'm sure you are," Pansy cut in smoothly, refusing his hand and standing up on her own, clicking her high heels on the ground perhaps with the intention to unnerve him. "After all, you didn't try to cop a feel while you were lying over me a moment ago, which implies that you didn't do this on purpose."

             "I wouldn't do such a thing!" Neville looked properly horrified at the mere suggestion.

             "What, you wouldn't try to cop a feel?" Pansy crossed her arms over her chest. "I should feel offended. I really should."

             "N-no...!" Neville really had no idea how that would cause her offense, but he was somewhat used to people being displeased with him. "I meant... I wouldn't purposely knock a girl down..."

             "So you wouldn't knock a girl down, but you don't deny that you'd try to cop a feel if you could?" Pansy smirked in an almost predatory fashion at him.

             He had a decided feeling that there were _no correct answers to any of her questions._

            Dammit, this was almost worse than Snape's class.

            "How gentlemanly," Pansy drawled, her voice slightly mocking as she reached over and patted his cheek with one manicured hand. "So, how many girls _have you groped?"_

            "I'm... not answering that question!"

            Pansy was finding great enjoyment in the increasingly flustered look on his face. "Oh, is that so? Did you and the little Weasley have any fun at the Yule Ball last year?"

            "I hope she did," Neville murmured, "and no, I _didn't_ grope her! I'm not Malfoy!"

            Pansy laughed outright at that, "I'm well aware. I wouldn't be speaking to you if you were."

            The fact that Pansy Parkinson and Draco Malfoy were apparently not speaking did not compute in Neville's muddled mind. And her perfume was making him slightly dizzy. "Did Draco upset you?" he asked, troubled. "It's all right... he does that to everyone. Don't let him get to you."

            "How sweet," Pansy patted him on the other cheek. "Tell me something that I don't know."

            "I think Ginny likes him," he blurted out. "Although that's completely _daft and Ron would kill both of them and..."_

            "Well then," Pansy practically purred, "I expect we're in for a good bit of entertainment in the future." She glanced at her jewel-encrusted watch, "I should go back to my common room, then. Malfoy's probably progressed from trying to find someone to whine to... to sulking in his dormitory. It'll be safe. Ta-ta, then!"

            Neville fled the sound of clicking high heels as fast as he could dignifiedly go.

***

            Hermione had begged off of her tutoring session the last week of November with a bad headache and twenty pages of Defense homework.  Cho had let her go, figuring no one except Ravenclaws and Hermione herself would want to study so close to Christmas.  Sure enough, several members of her own house trickled into the Transfiguration tutoring session late on Thursday night.  She waved her greeting to fifth years Terry Boot and Kevin Entwhistle, and shared a grin with Calista before setting down her box of random small objects.  "Just… pick up whatever you need to work on.  There are extra books on the table.  If you have any specific questions, I'll be glad to answer them."

            Immediately, Kevin's hand shot up.  "I've got a question, Cho."

            "Yes, Kevin?" she asked, smiling slightly.  Something entertaining was bound to come of this, considering the small smile on his face.  If Kevin had passed a day without making someone laugh, he was probably sick.

            "Is Su really aiming to shag Cassius Warrington like everyone is saying?  Or did she already?"

            "Urk," said Terry, and dropped the teapot he had picked up, conceivably to try transforming it into a tortoise and back again.  It shattered.

            Cho gave Kevin a reproving look.  "Reparo."

            "Well, Terry's green in the face; my job is done," Kevin said cheerfully.

            "Considering there are no questions related to _Transfiguration_," Terry said with a grimace as he picked up the whole-again teapot.  "He's been plaguing me all day with that, simply because he knows it makes me sick."

            "Well, even Su can't stay sweet and innocent forever," Kevin said with a placating wave of his hand.

            "She was _never_ sweet.  And shut _up_."

            "Now, boys, boys," Cho said, suppressing a laugh.  In the corner, Calista was already changing her pincushion into a hedgehog for the second time.  "Save the arguments about Su's personal life for the hallways, where they are already being conducted."  She picked up a quill and handed it to Kevin.  "And, just for the record, I don't believe she has, no.  As for what her aims are, I prefer to think my mind doesn't go in that direction.  Work, please."

            "_Pluma__ Albucum Immutatum," Kevin said, waving his wand at the quill, which promptly turned into a lily.  He handed it back to Cho with a boyish grin.  "Meaning she's talked to you about it.  Aren't you going to tell us?"_

            "Let's see," Cho said, and pointedly looked into the notebook she used to write down her homework and lessons.  "No, I'm afraid that's not on the roster for today."

            "Oh, you're no fun," said Kevin, as Calista giggled from the corner and Terry said, "_Thank_ you."

            "Oh come on, they'd make a nice couple!" Kevin said.  "Of course, she's so short, she'd probably have to stand a step above him on the stairs to kiss him, but then, that might be cute, in its way, and Su's not likely to get all sugary and soppy about it, which would be a nice change."

            "You managed to mention Su, sugariness, soppiness, and _kissing in one… very long run-on sentence.  I hereby disown you as friend," Terry grumbled.  His teapot was still a teapot.  "Damn it, thanks to you, I can't concentrate on this!  Cho, why is the damn teapot still not alive?"_

            "Because you're waving your wand fit to take someone's eyes out," Cho said, trying to be soothing.  "Now, I will say this once, and we will not bring up this topic again.  What is going on is terribly silly.  Su needs to either get her act together and fix it, or… not fix it.  But she should pick one."

            "Define 'fix it'," grumbled Terry.

            "It would probably involve her and Warrington in a broom closet.  Again, I mean."

            "Shut _up_, Kevin."

***

            Seamus Finnigan knew that he was in trouble as soon as he stepped into the classroom. There was only him, Zach Turpin of Ravenclaw, and three evil entities of the species _Femmea_ Slytherinus Diabolicus_. There was the blonde Prefect Caligo, of course, who just so happened to be wearing what looked like an ornamental dagger to pin back her hair. And there was the little one with the dark hair and the virulently sharp tongue (belied by the almost-innocent big blue eyes). And then there was the one in _his_ year who had apparently (from his poor roommate's mutterings in his sleep) sexually assaulted Neville._

            Hermione had ordered him (in very scary bossy Hermione fashion) to go to the tutoring session for Defense Against the Dark Arts, to brush up on countercurses that he'd missed on the last quiz. He had agreed, partly to get the Prefect off his back, and partially because it would have been easier to learn them with the Prefects than to slave away in the library looking them up. 

            Or so he'd thought.

            He would not make that mistake again.

            It wasn't so much that the girls were... threatening, or being mean and rude and obnoxious. They were actually rather cheerful, Caligo demonstrating several rather complicated-looking shielding and deflecting spells while snarking and gossiping back and forth with Emma Dobbs and Pansy Parkinson. Seamus got as close to cowering as a Gryffindor could, and went over the countercurses that he wasn't sure of with Zach. He almost wished that the girls would sneer and be snooty and... well, relatively less scary than they were determined to be.

            "So yes... the counterspell for _Conburo__ Dermae is __Neco__ Frigesco," Zach remarked evenly, his mouth twitching slightly. Seamus nodded, mimicking the wandwork of the older student._

            "...Well, Tracey's probably going to give up on Cassius soon. Or at least, I hope so," Susannah was saying as she wrote down a list of dark detection spells on the chalkboard, "I'd absolutely _hate_ it if she persisted, he became exasperated, and the high-pitched whining and wailing would carry through her dormitory to mine."

            "You do not room with either her or Millicent Bulstrode, you just recently got a new big sparkly toy, and you can take points away from Hufflepuffs going at it in the Astronomy Tower for desecration of the sacred act of shagging. What do _you have to complain about?" Pansy copied down the spells that Susannah had written down, tapping her manicured fingernails on the desk._

            Seamus ducked his head over his Defense textbook and valiantly wished that he would wake up.

            "Don't wave your wand so wildly," Zach Turpin's voice shook slightly, as he seemed to be trying to hold in desperate laughter.

            "Well. She _is_ Warrington's cousin," Emma remarked to Pansy. "It would only be natural that the lovelorn, rejected Tracey Davis would whine to her and try to get her to make Warrington see reason."

            Susannah wrinkled her nose delicately, "Let's not talk about my cousin and 'seeing reason', shall we? From what is the general consensus of almost all people sensible and survival-seeking, it isn't particularly healthy to deliberately hack off that Su Li. If they're actually involved (and all rumours _do have a grain of truth), it will be a miracle if he lives to see thirty. With his... nature."_

            Both Emma and Pansy laughed slightly at that. Emma's eyes glinted. "Oh, but I'm sure that Li finds his antics charming. If she is as lethal as they say, wouldn't she have killed him already otherwise?"

            "No," Susannah said easily, as she fluidly countered the spell that Pansy sent at her. "She's biding her time and plotting right now."

            Pansy's face was almost dreamy. "You have to admit, though, Susannah... they _are terribly amusing."_

            "Well of course," Susannah remarked with wide eyes, "but I might get annoying questions from my parents, not to mention Aunt Cordelia, if I have to bring home his remains in a small chamber pot."

            Seamus flinched and scrunched down some more. Why couldn't they be like... nice, normal _Gryffindor_ girls? Even listening to Parvati and Lavender giggle about hot blokes in Witch Weekly was preferable to listening to... _these_ girls... talk about murder!

            He got the terrible impression that this was quite par of the course. Drawing upon reserves of the vaunted Gryffindor bravery, he stayed put and tried to pay attention to Turpin explain the countercurses to Blinding spells.

            "Ah well... despite it all, I actually think that if they _don't kill each other as is statistically 87.5% likely, they might make an interesting pair. For one thing, united, they might solve the little Malfoy/Weasley girl issue and give us all a nice show sometime," Susannah remarked as she closed her book, removing the dagger from her hair and handing it to Emma, who sliced her now-finished Defense essay off at precisely thirty inches of parchment._

            "As long as we don't walk in upon them shagging in the common room, it's all right." Pansy gave an elegant shrug and closed her books as well.

            Susannah rolled her eyes. "Come off it, Pans... he's Head Boy. He has his special quarters. If there _were_ anyone to stumble in upon this hypothetical scene, it would probably be Angelina Johnson, and not you. And besides, they both tutor Charms. I'd _hope that they would be more discreet."_

            "If Johnson were to stumble in upon that scene, it would be bad," Emma mused. "She might raise up a clamour to the Headmaster that both of them were trying to permanently ruin her vision to sabotage Quidditch."

            Susannah dismissed this claim as well with a wave of her hand. "She associates with the Weasleys. I'd say that she's seen far more frightening things."

            The girls laughed appreciatively at that, and the chiming of a distant clock signaled the end of the tutoring session, as well as Seamus Finnigan's freedom. Like a liberated prisoner, he threw his books into his bag, and all but ran back to Gryffindor.

            Hermione was rather surprised when, glancing up from her homework with a reproach upon her lips when someone stomped into the Common Room, she beheld Seamus Finnigan, pale and downright pouting, giving her a "why didst thou send me to hell, lady" look of woe.

            "Who blew up your owl?" Hermione asked him, mystified.

            "Hermione," Seamus started in a very scared, subdued sort of tone, "I will be your slave. I will carry your books to classes for you. I will help you liberate House elves against their will. I will even thwap Weasley when he misbehaves or is a prat around you. But for the love of all things good, holy and righteous, _please_ do not make me go again! I'll do _anything!_"

            Hermione gave him an astonished look. "Seamus, whatever is the matter? I realize that Defense is a difficult class, but..."

            "But the people who go to tutoring are _EEEEEEEEVIL!_ They talk about murder and sex, even the little one, and..." Seamus grabbed Hermione by the shoulders. "No more. Not even Irishmen are that insane."

            Hermione, more disturbed by Seamus' state than his wild assertions, promised that if he needed help with Defense, he could go and ask her rather than go to tutoring. "They're not Malfoy, though," she proclaimed in a bewildered tone. "Surely they can't be _that_ bad?"

            "Malfoy is merely trying to shag Ginny. That's not _too_ bad," Seamus muttered ominously as he stalked up to his dormitory.

            To proclaim that this act, a capital offense in the eyes of both her best friends, "not _too_ bad"... Hermione realized that perhaps Seamus had been rather more traumatized than she'd thought.


	9. Never Let You Go

**Every Other Time**

**Chapter Nine: Never Let You Go**

* * *

Dove: So, you thought it couldn't _possibly_ get any better. And then there was this chapter :big grin: Among many other things, Echo kills a plant, Draco gets some of his good humour back, our protagonists have a… moment… and Su gets called a sex-starved firecracker. Not necessarily in that order, mind you.

Thalia: Score one for Warrington, by the way. Yes, he _is_ always this evil. One should look at who _made_ him eyebrow raise. Anyway, aside from all those, poor Tracey. Except, not really. And I really _would_ like it to be "pounce a bad boy week" :smirk:.

Disclaimer: We own sexy male Slytherins. They plan a hostile takeover of our minds. They, being Slytherins, succeed. We get arrested for doing eeeeeeeeeeevil things while under their control. No net access in jail. From the fact that this fic exists, I suppose you can logically assume that we don't really own them :shifty eyes:.

* * *

_"There's every good reason  
__For letting you go,  
__She's sneaky and smoked out  
__And it's starting to show…  
__I'll never let you go,  
__I'll never let you go,  
__I'll never let you go,  
__I'll never let you go..."_

-Third Eye Blind, "Never Let You Go"

* * *

There were certain things Su Li had to put up with, all things considered, once she resigned herself to the fact that she was crazy about a Slytherin, particularly since he was the most difficult species of Slytherin, and she could not really predict him at all. As it was his move to determine the outcome of… everything, there was a great deal she was forced to put up with, with a smile on her face.

Tracey Davis was not one of these things.

Accordingly, shortly after the group siesta also known as History of Magic, the small Ravenclaw girl pulled the curly-haired Slytherin aside by the sleeve, not so much as giving a reason for her behaviour. Tracey, being bright enough to realize one did not upset a Prefect without good cause, followed along, wondering what on earth could be going on.

Having pulled Tracey around a corner, Su released her sleeve and looked up at her, her eternal smile in place and her eyes shooting sparks. Like it or not, Tracey began to think that following along without raising a fuss had been the wrong thing to do, after all. She still didn't know what this was about, so she lifted a hand and twirled one on her curls around her finger. "Yes, Li?" she asked.

"I could call you a vile, despicable vixen of a wench," Su said matter-of-factly. She paid no mind to the immediately offended expression on Tracey's face, and instead continued. "I, however, have more class than that, and therefore will simply tell you this: if you were Susannah Caligo, or even remotely in the same class as Susannah Caligo, I might let this pass." She smiled brightly as she looked up at the other girl, who was only of medium height and still managed to be a deal taller. "You, on the other hand, are no match for her, physically or mentally, and certainly no match for me in the mental respect, and therefore, I had thought I'd warn you."

"Of what?" Tracey said, very offended. Honestly, what right did this little girl have to talk about her style? She had been emulating Susannah for years! Certainly she must have had it down by now!

"Of a little thing called property," Su said, leaning in a little, causing Tracey to involuntarily take a step back and press her back against the wall. "Namely, if you poach on mine, you are asking for an early and horrific death."

Tracey now had a fair idea what she was talking about, and tried to laugh it off, but the expression on the small, delicate face was not a funny one. "Are you threatening to kill me over Cassius?" she said, giving half a smile and crossing her arms in front of her for the sake of protection. "How juvenile."

"Oh no, I'm not threatening to kill you, at moment," Su said matter-of-factly. "That would be a waste of my time." She shrugged. "Now then, let me clarify. Cassius Warrington had better not exist as far as you are concerned starting… now. If you choose to ignore this warning, you will get one more, in the guise of an anonymous letter to your parents detailing a certain scene I walked in on in the Astronomy Tower which I let slide… involving, as I recall a certain very non-Slytherin boy who, on top of all other faults, is Muggle-born." Su's smile was predatory. "If you choose to ignore this warning as well, the next will be something slipped into your shampoo bottle which will cause all those lovely curls to fall out, against which there is no protective potion. Finally, if walking around bald doesn't hinder you, then I will threaten to kill you, and mean it. Do we have this clear?" She patted Tracey's suddenly very white cheek and said, "Good girl. Now then, there will be not a word of this spoken to anyone. Run along and behave."

Turning her back on Tracey, she walked away with a carefree expression on her face. She knew when she had won.

* * *

That evening, there were a few noted absences from the Slytherin table during dinner. If Cassius Warrington had noticed that Emma Dobbs, Susannah Caligo, Pansy Parkinson and Tracey Davis were all gone, he certainly didn't say anything. The Head Boy sat in seeming obliviousness with his teammates, sipping pumpkin juice and flipping with interest through a new book on Chaser strategies, taking an occasional bite of his meal.

It was only when Montague, who _had_ certainly noticed his girlfriend's absence, prodded him with the blunt end of his butter knife and remarked "Your little Ravenclaw is sending some very triumphant looks in your general direction," that Cassius looked up. His expression was very blank.

"I can't imagine why... she hasn't bothered _me_ today," the Head Boy declared. "Perhaps she has found some easier target whose life she has effectually made miserable. Good for her."

It was a partial fabrication.

* * *

A wincing house-elf, carrying a huge tray of chocolate ice cream, chocolate brownies and mugs of hot chocolate (one special glass imbibed with a dose of tranquility potion), appeared in the Slytherin common room and headed towards Susannah Caligo, who had a very long-suffering expression on her face and whose lap held a head of flaxen hair which was emitting some most unpleasant wails and loud sniffles. "Here, Miss Caligo, Lindy is bringing the chocolate for Miss Davis, and..." the House Elf set the tray down on the coffee table in front of Susannah, and pointed to the green mug.

Susannah sighed and gave a nod. "Thank you, Lindy. That will be all." Lindy nodded, gave an odd little bow, and disappeared with a pop. Susannah looked down at the hairy mass resting in her lap, and gave it a delicate pat. "Tracey, dearest, do stop crying and eat some chocolate. You will feel better."

Tracey's head slowly emerged from the older girl's lap, her nose a most unbecoming shade of red and her eye makeup running down her cheeks in rivulets. Susannah gracefully handed the fifth year a handkerchief and nodded at the tray of delectables on the table. "Now, tell us, what's the matter?"

As Tracey blew her nose loudly into the delicate lace handkerchief, Pansy rolled her eyes at Emma and muttered out of the corner of her mouth, "What's the matter is that she doesn't realize that if she were to shed tears while wearing makeup, she should at least hit the mascara with an _Impervious_ charm first..." Emma bit down a snigger, and put up a sympathetic, innocent face as she, too, looked at the still-sniffling Tracey with an expectant expression.

"She's... that _horrible_ Ravenclaw bint... she..." Evidently, Tracey could not find enough words in her vocabulary to properly vocalize just what calamity had befallen her poor, hapless head compliments of a Ravenclaw.

"All right," Susannah picked up the green mug of hot chocolate and handed it to Tracey, "take a little sip and calm down. We can't understand you if you're crying so hard."

Quite a few not-quite-ladylike, shaky gulps later, Tracey turned her dejected, pouting face towards Susannah and mumbled something about evil fifth year Prefects who actually had the audacity to think that they owned a Slytherin... Li _didn't _own Cassius, did she!

Susannah rolled her eyes expressively over Tracey's bowed head, and answered in as patient a voice as she could muster. "Well, my cousin's business is his own, and not mine. But then, he's not really your type, I'd say, dear... he's not exactly the type who would be the most docile and mild-mannered of boyfriends, I daresay..."

"But he's _Head Boy!_" Tracey whined. "If I couldn't make Prefect this year, at least I should be sha—"

"Oh, Tracey," Pansy butted in, "_please_ don't tell me that you'd shag anyone or anything that was a Head Boy. Why the deuce didn't you shag Weasley two years ago, hmm?"

Tracey gave her roommate a watery glare and immersed herself in the chocolate ice cream. Emma, a patented look of innocence on her features, handed Tracey a brownie.

"Warrington probably has his hands full anyway, even if he weren't shagging Li," the small Slytherin girl remarked soothingly. "I mean, Quidditch, Head Boy duties, strings to pull, minds to manipulate... that sort of thing..."

"Meaning, he's out of your league," Pansy muttered under her breath, before saying aloud, "Stick to someone your year, Tracey. Then you can shag him again next year without him having to sneak into your dormitory from outside the castle. How about Theodore Nott? Oh... and I'm not letting you borrow my face powder any more if you're just going to weep it all over the place."

As the girlish tête-à-tête was going on in the common room, Benedick Jeunet, exultant over homework completed, had poked his head into the common room, wondering if anyone was up for fencing.

Hearing the wails as soon as he reached the entrance, the boy grimaced. Bloody mad girls... sneaking in on tiptoe and grabbing the closest foil off the rack by door, he gave a heavy sigh and walked back out. Now, to find an empty classroom or something of the sort...

Three floors up and down a dusty corridor, he decided he was far enough from anyplace any female of his house could possibly find him. Ravenclaw Tower was somewhere around here, but clearly, no one really used this hallway. He picked a room at random and pushed the door open.

He was greeted by the rather odd sight of a small girl balanced precariously on the windowsill in an anatomically improbable position, talking in a quietly furious voice at a dying flower in a jar. With her long black hair pulled up in two buns, it took him a moment to recognize the tiny Ravenclaw he had knocked to the ground sometime near the beginning of the year and who had since been giving him poisonous looks each time they met. She was wearing a leotard in pale rose and pink tights rolled up to her knees. Her right leg was up along the window frame in a way he didn't study too closely in fear of becoming ill. "Iie! Hana no baka!" she hissed. "Naze? Naze desu ka?" The droopy flower chose this moment to drop another petal onto the windowsill.

It was all rather comical, really.

His idea to walk away and close the door behind him quietly was shattered as Echo looked up and saw him in the doorway. Her eyes widened and she attempted to extricate herself from her position on the windowsill. The roll of her tights got caught on the lock, she flailed a moment, then flipped onto the ground head first, taking the flower with her. The jar shattered, water splattered all over the neat wooden floor of the room, and the flower, giving up its last legs, was crushed under the arm she put out to stop her fall.

Benedick wished dearly he could repeat her next phrase, which was no doubt enlightening.

She stood, every bit as pink as her leotard, attempted to brush most of the water off of herself, and glared up at him. "What you want?" she demanded, this time in English. "If just to call me a clumsy idiot, get it over with and go _away!_"

"That wasn't exactly my plan for the evening," he said, struggling not to laugh. He lifted the hand which still held the foil. "I was just looking for someplace to practice."

"This is _my_ spot to practice," Echo said heatedly.

"That was practice?" he said curiously. "What were you practicing; how to kill flowers by suggestion?"

Now she was considerably closer to purple. "Shut up, baka Slytherin. Go find someone else to torment." Her voice held tears, but her face was all anger. She picked up a pair of heavily worn satin slippers from the windowsill and waved them wildly at him as though she held a weapon. "Stay in dungeons and rot," she said angrily. "Go on! Why are you still here?"

"Is there a reason you hate me so much, or is this the way you treat anyone who walks in on your… unique… study habits?"

She threw a toe shoe at his head. He caught it easily with his free hand and raised an eyebrow at her in that patented Slytherin fashion. "All right, little demon, you win, I lose, I'm leaving," he said airily as he dropped the shoe on the floor. "There are enough hysterical females in my _own_ house for me to deal with you, too." He turned and walked out the door and, closing it behind him, added, "Make sure none of the glass pierced your skin." There was the sound of the other shoe thumping to the floor after hitting the closed door. He shook his head, decided he would never understand females, and went off in search of an alternate location.

* * *

Cassius Warrington walked out of the Headmaster's office with a meditative sort of expression on his face. He'd just had a brief conference with Dumbledore about the upcoming Christmas activities of that year, and had parted with Angelina towards the front entrance, as the Head Girl muttered something about her Potions homework and went off towards the Head student quarters.

As he watched Angelina leave, Warrington reflected, rather wryly, that at the moment, perhaps his rival captain might be one of the few relatively sane females left in the school. Certainly, a good percentage of girls in both Ravenclaw and Slytherin seemed to be... acting peculiar... as of late.

As if on cue, he spotted a small, blonde figure walking towards the main doors. Speeding up his pace slightly, he approached her, a slight smirk on his face.

"And what might _you_ be doing?" he asked when he got within ten feet of her. "Sneaking out, are you?"

Su raised an eyebrow in unconscious imitation of him. "Quidditch practice, if you _must_ know," she replied.

Warrington walked towards her at a leisurely pace, as she stood still with her back against one of the columns by the door. "Where are your teammates, then?"

"Probably arriving soon, except for Cho, who is probably already out there," she replied evenly. "Are we to continue talking about Quidditch with you waiting in vain hope that I might drop some team secrets, or shall we move onto other, more interesting things?"

"And what 'other, more interesting things' might you suggest?" he asked silkily. He was about two feet away from her now, eyes sweeping lazily over her face. "Shall I be expecting more blatant sexual advances upon my person, with or without the added benefit of a convenient closet?"

She almost growled at the completely _cool_ manner in which he remarked upon that incident. He had an infuriatingly sardonic expression on his face, and for one mad moment, she debated either taking his challenge, or perhaps slapping him again. Heaven knew he deserved it, the bloody pillock...

But instead, she raised her chin, almost defiantly, and gave him a beatific little smile. "Now, now... that would be utterly _terrible_ of me, would it not? After all, there seems to be that pretty little blonde in your house and _my_ year, who pines for you so..."

"So _that's_ why Tracey seems to have suddenly developed Ravenclawphobia," Cassius replied, unconcerned. "I hear from my cousin that she made quite the scene last night. Sad, isn't it?"

"Sad? I wouldn't say that Tracey Davis whining is a sad phenomenon. Rather a boringly predictable one."

"Not _that_." He stared down into her face. "It's merely so sad... all these silly housemates of mine. So many seem to have been infected by a contagious infatuation bug and are acting in such _ridiculous_ ways..." And perhaps, it wasn't just Slytherins.

She gave him a piercing, challenging look and crossed her arms. "And I suppose that you think that you're immune to _that_, just like you're the exception to every _other_ rule?"

He'd reached out his hand in the middle of her retort, his gaze fixed upon her lips as she snapped at him, and when she finished speaking, settled his hand upon her shoulder. When her eyes widened a bit, he stepped even closer, tempted for a moment to give her a taste of her own medicine, when an even more diabolical idea sprung up in his mind.

Deliberately, he moved in upon her, so close that their robes brushed, well aware of the advantage _he_ had due to height and size, and slowly, moved his hand inward towards her face, fingertips brushing against her neck. As his hand cupped her face, she froze, eyes wide, and he felt a savage sense of satisfaction even as he used his hand to tilt her face upwards and leaned in.

Her breath caught in her throat as his face came closer to hers, a strange glint in his eyes and his hand, surprisingly warm, held her chin in place. And when she could feel his breath stirring her hair, she lowered her eyelashes.

But he merely brushed his thumb slowly over her parted lips, and smirked as he whispered into her hair. "Wouldn't you like to know?"

And then, before she could react or even move again, still reeling over their proximity, he'd pulled away, and her eyes snapped open to watch his retreating back disappear down the hall.

It took Su a good ten minutes to recover herself. _Damn_ him! She even began wandering aimlessly in the direction of her common room to think this out in peace when she chanced to look out the window and beheld tiny blue-clad figures whizzing around above the pitch. _Quidditch Practice!_

Mentally growling, she took off running down the stairs, and appeared, wheezing and huffing, a good quarter-hour late. After bearing Cho's stony glare, which promised her a severe talking-to later, she clambered up on her broom and took to the air.

Clearly, her mind was not in the game, as a Quaffle thrown by Zach Turpin which any first year should have been able to catch got her straight in the midsection and nearly sent her spiraling off of her broom. She was narrowly rescued from this fate by Terry, who dropped his Beater club to catch her by the scruff of the neck and set her back on her broom with a reproving look.

"Practice is over for the day," came Cho's clipped voice. This was unusual, as they had the pitch for another ten minutes at least, but no one seemed inclined to argue with her. "Su, stay behind, please."

As everyone else went to the showers, Su lowered to the ground, her head hanging in shame. She had _never_ played this badly. She said nothing, waiting for the older girl to join her.

"What is _wrong_ with you, Su?" Cho asked in a tone considerably less angry than could have been expected under the circumstances. "I've never seen you like this."

"Cassius Bloody Warrington," Su said, clenching her teeth. "I'm sorry, Cho; I won't drag the team down again."

Cho sighed. "Go get your shower." As Su went off, a very determined glint could be seen in Cho's eyes. "This is going clearly out of control," she said under her breath.

* * *

That night, Cho was the first to show up for Prefect rounds. As soon as Warrington, followed by Draco and Susannah, appeared, she took hold of a fistful of his robe and said evenly, "Warrington, you're with me. Come on."

With that, she dragged him off, to the amused, "What's _with_ the Ravenclaws lately?" from Draco.

After a few moments of stony silence as the two of them descended towards the dungeons, Warrington chanced a very odd look at his companion before speaking. "Okay, I realize that I am devastatingly attractive and irresistibly charismatic, but isn't it enough that _one_ mad little Ravenclaw Asian is complicating my life? What is this, pounce a bad boy week in your house?"

Cho stood and looked up at him. Her foot was tapping ever so slightly on the stone floor. He could have sworn her eyes were glowing. "What did you _do_ to her!"

There was no explanation whatsoever needed as to who she meant. Warrington raised a brow at her and told the truth. "Absolutely nothing."

"You utter _bastard_," she said.

Warrington grinned down at her in his most charming fashion. "Why thank you."

There was a sharp intake of breath from Cho, and then silence. She appeared to be counting to ten. Finally, she spoke in a terribly calm voice. "Why _didn't_ you do anything!"

Now Warrington was slightly confused. He regarded her quizzically. "First I'm told I'm molesting a young girl in Knockturn Alley when I am rescuing said young girl from almost certain doom. Then, when I do absolutely nothing to said young girl and am, in fact, the very essence of the word 'gentleman', I am asked why I did not throw her on the ground and have my way with her? Is that what you're asking me?"

"Are you always this difficult?"

"No, generally I'm far worse," he said honestly. "Not that any of my… dealings with Li have… anything at all to do with you."

"Since I assume that means you haven't heard of friendship," Cho said evenly, "I'll give it to you in terms you _will_ understand. Su nearly fell off her broom in Quidditch today and might have been seriously injured. That aside, she has been distracted, irritable, and _late_ for practice. Even without my personal relationship with her, surely you can understand how I dislike such things happening to my Quidditch team."

"So now you're telling me my not throwing Li down on the floor and et cetera… is sabotaging your Quidditch game?"

"If that's the only way you can wrap your twisted mind around it," Cho said evenly.

"All right, so basically you have a sex-starved firecracker on your hands, and thus your Quidditch game is an utter mess. And what you want out of me to remedy this is..?"

A small muscle was twitching near Cho's eye, but her voice was calm. "You either care about Su… or you do not. Make up your mind, will you, and get on with it. Stop playing with her."

"By playing, do you mean—"

"Stuff it, Warrington, I'm very serious."

"Let me remind you she's been playing with _me_ and everyone _else_ in the castle since the beginning of the year," he countered. "She's only getting a taste of her own medicine. And she really doesn't need you to defend her."

"No, she doesn't, but she has me, anyway," Cho said. "And… seriously, Warrington… trite as this is, someone like Su doesn't come around every corner. Despite her utterly evil nature and her marginal insanity… well, what am I talking about? Those are probably the things you like about her." She swallowed a laugh. "Don't mess with my Chaser's head, Warrington," she said. "Now, go to bed and put your brains in order. Night."


	10. Pure Morning

~*Everything You Want*~

Chapter Ten:  Pure Morning

Thalia: This is the Neville/Pansy chapter of d00m. Because they're effin' priceless. And in terms of coming attractions, there will be Christmas festivities of a terribly amusing sort come next chapter, all set up from here. Oh, and tie-tugging, dancing shamrock boxers, and spastic Weasleys abound. Enjoy!

Dove: At least _someone got some action this chapter.  And would you believe Warrington and Su are barely in this one at all?  Oh, but Ginny's gone and lost her head over Draco, as will be proven shortly.  Also, I'm of the opinion a certain boy should never, ever return the offending knickers and keep them as a memento…_

Thalia: Am of the opinion that a certain _girl should never return the offending boxer shorts either, and keep them in case of blackmail necessity in the future._

Disclaimer: We'll get back to you after we've taken over the world.

_"A friend in need's a friend indeed,_

_A friend with weed is better._

_A friend with breasts and all the rest,_

_A friend who's dressed in leather.___

_A friend in need's a friend indeed,_

_A friend who'll tease is better._

_Our thoughts compressed,_

_Which makes us blessed,___

_And makes for stormy weather…"_

-Placebo, "Pure Morning"

            Had Neville Longbottom merely been followed around by Pansy Parkinson and her clicking high heels of d00m, he wouldn't have been _too perturbed. The Slytherin had been giving him some very... peculiarly predatory looks and smirks in classes lately, and he had resigned himself to the fact that one of these days, she would catch him, commit deeds of unspeakable evil, and leave him traumatized. That this would maybe mean lack of harassment from her towards his other housemates appealed to his sense of nobility, whereas the idea of asking for help from his housemates chafed against the grain of his hidden independence. Therefore, he said nothing._

            However, when Gregory Goyle, of all people, lumbered forward with a growl and pulled Millicent Bulstrode off him when the latter had grabbed Neville's back collar and stuffed it with icicles... Neville had stepped back in shock, wondering who cast the _Imperius_ curse and why... and had seen Parkinson giving him a jaunty wave from where she was leaving greenhouse three with an armful of Christmas holly.

            _This seemed rather extreme. Even for terribly manipulative and scary Slytherin girls._

            Neville, one with self-control, merely stammered some sort of thanks to the burly Slytherin boy who'd helped him, and kept his head down until after lunchtime. Then, hearing Pansy's high heels exiting the Great Hall, he'd risen from his seat, hands in pockets and a confused, fearful sort of expression on his face, and followed.

            "Good, you picked up." Pansy didn't even turn around as she rounded a corner, with him following her about ten feet behind. "You aren't stupid, perhaps... just scared."

            "Er..." To call a Gryffindor "scared" seemed like some sort of insult, but Neville was unsure. And for her to call him "not stupid" was definitely a compliment. But before he could decide whether he should be flattered or affronted, she'd swiveled around and turned to face him.

            "Are you scared of me, then?" Pansy walked towards him, high heels clicking, tossing her hair flirtatiously.

            Neville's eyes widened.  "I should be, shouldn't I?" he managed to squeak out.

            "Perhaps. But if I tell you everything, it would be no fun," she proclaimed, crooking a manicured finger at him. "Come over here."

            Neville came obediently, stopping about five feet in front of her.

             "Closer," she ordered, hands on hips and tapping the toe of her shoe on the floor.

            He stepped forward another foot... then another... then another, until he was right in front of her, gulping internally and thinking to himself that hexes actually worked best at a distance of five to ten feet. But Pansy didn't draw her wand. Reaching out her hand, she pulled him along by his tie for a nearby empty classroom.

            "Wh—what's going on?" Neville spluttered, quickening his steps to keep up with the yanking hand that had a firm grip around his tie.

            She didn't answer until they were both in the classroom, and then, she patted his tie back in place upon his chest. "Oh, just this," she said airily, handing him a packet of what appeared to be fine envelopes. "I only have one owl and not enough time. Send these out with the school owls for me before tomorrow, will you?" It wasn't really a question, especially not with her fluttering her eyelashes and caressing his _tie_ like... like... well, something that his non-naughty Gryffindor mind refused to think about.

            "Er... all right..." Neville said cautiously, eyeing the envelopes, which seemed to be addressed to several Slytherins and Ravenclaws, "They're not...."

            "Not Howlers, obviously. Not immature little pranks like the Weasley twins might do, either," Pansy said quickly, with a little sniff. "If I were to make someone's life miserable, I'd want to do it _personally and not with silly devices."_

            "Oh...?"

            "They'd _deserve_ that sort of close, personal attention, wouldn't you think?" Pansy asked him with wide eyes, still touching the tie, now playing with the knot.

            "That's... nice of you," Neville squeaked out.

            "Since you _are_ a pure ickle Gryff," Pansy drawled, "I'll let the positive remark slide and assume that it was meant in a complimentary manner." She'd pulled the knot free, and Neville blushed hard. Oh Merlin, this was _really going to be traumatizing and... umm..._

Pansy smirked slightly, and yanked the loose ends of the tie until he was very close to her.       Giving him a smouldering look for a few moments, she tossed back her hair and re-knotted it.  "Only the uncouth have their ties in half-Windsor knots," she told him in an admonishing tone, as she worked with her fingers.

            Finished molesting his tie, Pansy tucked it back in place under the jumper, and gave him what could almost be qualified as a benevolent smile had her eyes not been gleaming in a purely diabolical manner. "Now, don't forget my invitations, boy..." she told him in a sing-song voice. Neville hastily nodded, and the pseudo-smile widened. "Good... excellent. I shall have to thank you properly... later, but for now..." She stepped back, all grace despite the heels and Neville's burgundy face, and blew him a kiss before walking out of the classroom at a leisurely pace, the clickety-clack of high heels dying down the hallway.

***

            None of the envelopes were addressed to Gryffindors save one, which was for Ginny Weasley.  He wasn't entirely sure whether she'd feel privileged to be included, or, which was by far the more likely, attempt to kill him and Pansy both.  Of course, if he didn't deliver it, he would probably be killed by Pansy and possibly Malfoy.  Being thus caught between Scylla and Charybdis, he sighed, picked the lesser of the two evils, and decided that he would get Ginny hers last, so at least the others would still have theirs if he turned up dead the next day.

            Next came the problem of actually delivering the envelopes.  He managed most of the Ravenclaws fairly easily, by running around the Great Hall at dinner that night.  There were startled looks from a few of them to see him with envelopes sealed with a Slytherin crest.  Zach Turpin took his cautiously, but Calista Green giggled and Su Li smiled absently.  Cho Chang shook her head but took hers, and Lisa Turpin actually looked excited.  Terry Boot glared and Kevin Entwistle grinned, but the envelopes disappeared in their respective robe pockets.  Neville held off on the Slytherins who, except Pansy, terrified him.  What Pansy caused was quite a deal beyond terror, and frankly, he didn't want to think on that subject too hard.

            Accordingly, after dinner, he was approached by Pansy.  "Haven't you finished yet?" she asked, giving him a queenly look.

            Neville had barely managed to find time to eat, but nonetheless, he stammered out an excuse.  "I… er… didn't want to interrupt your dinner.  You all looked so… serious."

            "We're Slytherins, darling," she said with a little laugh.  "Haven't you noticed we always look intimidating?"

            "Yes.  I mean no.  I mean… I don't know what I mean," he finished weakly.  "I'm sorry."

            She said nothing, but looked at him, as though expecting him to say something else.

            "Really sorry," he added lamely.  "Er… what are they, anyway?"

            Now she laughed.  "I never did tell you, did I?"  She reached under the collar of her sweater.  He gulped.  She pulled out an envelope with his name on it.  "Silly me, I seem to have forgotten to give you yours.  Here you go, then."  She handed him the envelope, which he took uncertainly.  It was warm.  He gulped again and opened it.

            "…A Christmas party?"  It was so terrifyingly… normal.

            "Well, what did you expect, Death Eater conscriptions?  Vacation starts next week, and those of us staying behind would be terribly bored."  She tossed her hair.  "Incidentally, I'm going to need your toad."

            "Why do you need Trevor?" he asked, not sure he wanted to trust his beloved pet to she-of-the-pink-doom-shoes.

            She gave him a very pointed "I-do-not-pay-you-to-ask-questions" look and he wilted.  "Right, Trevor.  Er… please make sure no one hurts him?"

            "He'll come back unharmed, or as unharmed as anyone ever has, I promise you," she said.  "I'll take him in Potions tomorrow, then."

            Neville sighed.  How did he end up promising away his toad?  "All right.  About these Slytherin invites…"

            "I _did_ give you the very logical idea of using owls," she pointed out.  "You could always send them tonight.  I'm sure you're looking forward to giving the little Weasley hers personally."

            He looked forward to it about as much as he looked forward to his Potions final.  "I'll get it done tonight.  I'm sorry, Pansy."  He was very tempted to add, "If I die, please take care of Trevor," but decided it would be silly and kept it to himself.  "I should probably go do that now."

            She patted his cheek.  "Good boy.  Sleep well.  Pleasant dreams."  With that very Pansy-esque smouldering look, she blew him a kiss, smiled in a catlike fashion when he turned red as a tomato, and retreated down the hall, swaying her hips and… being Pansy, really.  Neville had to force himself to look away and head his own way.

***

            Neville, after a bit of reflection, decided to be a brave boy. Worthy of being put into Gryffindor. There was no reason he couldn't deliver an invitation or two to the Slytherins. Besides, if they killed him before he could finish with his tasks, Pansy would kick them in high heels; of this he was fairly certain. There was _some_ security to all this.

            That, and the fact that the school owls, busy delivering all manners of presents and missives home and back, were in short supply, and after sending out four invitations, he would either have to wait for more owls to return (thereby inciting the possible wrath of Pansy) or to deliver the last two by hand.

            Figuring that he should let the birds deliver the invitations to the most intimidating ones, Neville attached the envelopes to Cassius Warrington, Alexander Montague, Susannah Caligo and Draco Malfoy to the legs of several screech owls, and decided to deliver the one for Blaise Zabini, and the one for Emma Dobbs... himself.

            Blaise Zabini had not been too hard to locate. The dark-haired Slytherin boy, after a brief talk with Calista Green, had headed straight to the library after dinner. Neville entered Madame Pince's domain a short while later, peering around for signs of the other fifth year's presence. Finding him in the Muggle literature section, of all places, Neville diffidently approached. "Er... Bl—Zabini?"

            Blaise looked up from the book he was hunched over, raising an eyebrow. "It's either Blaise or Zabini, not Blzabini. What do you want?"

            Neville shrunk back a little, squirming. "Er... well you see, Pansy wanted me to run a few errands for her, and..." Hastily pulling out the invitation so he didn't have to do any more explaining for himself, he shoved it at the Slytherin.

            "I see," Blaise peered at the envelope, then put it aside. "Well, is that all? I hate to burst your bubble, but I'm rather busy here."

            "Er, that's all," Neville said quickly, before frowning slightly. "Or... wait..." Seeing as to how Zabini hadn't sprouted scales and started hissing (although that might actually be more of a Weasley twin thing, come to think of it), it might be good to find out from him where Emma Dobbs, who Neville barely knew at all, might be found.

            "Well?" Blaise eyed him curiously, "out with it. I have a whole book to finish here before curfew." He gestured Dickens' A Christmas Carol, spread open in front of him.

            "Ah, where might I find Emma Dobbs?" Neville blurted out. "I never talked to her before, and..."

            "Emma?" Blaise shrugged, "She was mentioning something to Susannah about a laundry mix up. If she's not in the laundry room, then I wouldn't know. Now, will _that be all, then?"_

            Sensing that the Slytherin's typical benevolence limit had been reached, Neville nodded hastily, thanked Blaise, and exited the library. Now to hope that Emma Dobbs was actually _in_ the laundry room... and didn't have hordes of evil Slytherin girls with her.

***

            Emma _was_ in the laundry room, and not alone. Although the person who was there with her (not exactly a companion) was neither Slytherin nor female. Having found, in place of her own knickers, a pair of white boxer shorts with dancing shamrocks on them, the young Slytherin was in the laundry room trying to sort things out with Seamus Finnigan.

            The latter was quite suspicious, and scowled as the Slytherin witch held out the underpants in question for his inspection with an amusedly quirked eyebrow. "Yes... they _look_ like my boxers, but..."

            "What did you _think_ I did to them, parade around the common room topless wearing them?" Emma asked sarcastically, raising a perfectly arched eyebrow. "Despite the impression that Tracey Davis has been assiduously spreading about Slytherin girls, not all of us are shameless whores. I didn't do anything to them, you ruddy Irishman."

            Seamus gave a snort at that. "You in my boxers, topless. Now _that'd be a sight to see."_

            "Fantasizing, are we?" Emma smirked. "Sorry, but it's not going to happen here. Take your shorts, and give me back my laundry."

            "I am _not_ fantasizing!" Seamus howled, snatching the shorts from her. "I am _not_ a great bloody pervert, I'll have you know..."

            "I'd hex you with a fishtail if you'd tried anything without my consent, so whether or not you're a pervert is a moot point," Emma replied calmly. "Now, are you going to give me back my knickers, or have you erected a shrine to worship them?"

            "I. Don't. Worship. Sodding. Knickers," Seamus growled, staring down at the delicate-featured Slytherin girl. She didn't seem at all fazed.

            "Well, that's good to hear. I think only particularly devoted house-elves do that."

            He scowled, flushing darkly at that, and she gave him another expectant look. "Well? Is there some reason you haven't given me my knickers back yet? Honestly, if you need them that badly, I can give you the name of the store where they can be purchased, in a variety of styles and colours."

            Blast it all to hell, Seamus thought frantically to himself, did Slytherins get extra _lessons_ after Potions and Transfiguration and Charms and such, in sarcasm? It had been twenty minutes, the little bint was still smirking up at him, those big blue eyes still filled with ruddy _amusement_... it was insupportable! Did _nothing_ shock her? Gritting his teeth and giving her a ferocious glare, he reached out and grabbed her by the shoulders, giving her a heavy shake before pressing his lips hard against hers, wondering if _this_ would, at last, shock her into silence.

            Emma _was_ shocked, quite so, and for a few seconds, froze, unmoving. And then, almost lazily, she reached up a tiny hand and brushed a few locks of hair away from his forehead and firmly kissed him back.

            "Well, Finnigan," she drawled as she pulled away, eyes glinting up into his face, "how interesting... you glared at me, and then snogged me. Am I to assume that you hate me, or that you love me?"

            "How about I was trying to make you quiet," he grumbled, almost pouting.

            "You forget," she laughed and patted his cheek, "once you stop snogging me, I am perfectly able to talk again. You should try a Silencing Charm next time."

            "We don't do that," he said flatly.

            "I'd like to see you try," she shot back. "You never _did show up for Defense tutoring after that one time."_

            "You notice these things?" he felt his lips curve into a smarmy grin.

            She grinned back, her eyes glinting with mischief. "Well. You _do have my knickers, so I would have to notice things about you."_

            And then there was the sound of a throat clearing nervously at the door. "Er... Seamus, you have her knickers?"

            It was quite debatable which Gryffindor felt more embarrassed and "Oh-Merlin-where's-an-invisibility-cloak-when-I-need-one?!?" at the moment.

            But while both boys were turning pale and red by turns, Emma seemed cool as ever, surveying Neville calmly. "Is there something you want with this one right here?" she asked, pointing at a spluttering Seamus. Neville shrank back, wondering what sort of terrors he'd walked in upon.

            "Umm... actually... you're Emma Dobbs?"

            "Yes, I am," Emma answered. "Is there something you want with me?"

            "Just... this," Neville thrust the invitation towards her, and as soon as her fingers closed around the envelope, backed away and out of the room. "Ah, carry on, you two..." Shutting the door behind his back and wiping sweat from his brow, Neville trembled slightly as he hurried away down the hall. He would not ask. He saw nothing. Or... he really didn't want to know.

***

            Predictably, Ginny did not take well to the invitation.  "Why are you delivering this, Neville?" she asked icily after reading the offending parchment several times.

            "Because… Pansy told me to."  He shifted under her gaze.  "She scares me.  I had to do it."

            "Scares… you," Ginny said.  "Bollocks."  She crumpled and tossed the invitation towards the fire.  It never got there, having been caught in Harry's outstretched hand.  He had probably caught it on instinct at seeing a small projectile, but he smoothed it out and looked at it in surprise.

            "What's this, then, Gin?" he asked.  He read it again.  "Consorting with the enemy, are we?  I've heard some things… thought they weren't true."  He passed the paper to Ron.  "What do you say, Ron?  Think we should go and keep an eye on her?"

            Ginny turned scarlet.  It didn't help that… Malfoy… was never far from her thoughts anymore.  Nor did it help she found herself missing his rough kisses.  Or the fact that she had… altogether unsuitable… dreams about him at night.  She turned redder.  _Stop thinking._  Stop thinking.  Stop.__

            "A _Slytherin_ party?" Ron asked from across the room in disgust.  "I'd rather boil alive in oil.  And she_ isn't_ going.  Isn't that right, Hermione?"

            Hermione was saved from answering by Neville pointing out, "Just so you know, Ron, Malfoy will be there, and he seems to have… er… designs…"

            "Shut _up_, Neville," Ginny hissed, turning, if possible, redder.  "And who are you to tell me where I can go, Ronald?  I go where I please.  I'm not a child!"

            Ron jumped up.  _"WHAT!?"_

            Hermione rolled her eyes.  "He appears to have missed that memo."

            "We're going," Ron said through clenched teeth.  "All of us are bloody well _going_ if _you_ are, and let me tell you, Mum will hear about this, Virginia 'I-am-not-a-child' Weasley.  You're too young for boys!  You can't date until you're thirty!  Thirty-five!"

            "I'll date if and whom I like, and I'll go to the party, because not that it's any of _your_ concern.  _You_ were not invited, so be pleased to not make an ass of yourself and crash someone else's party.  You're clearly not wanted!"

            Hermione gave a helpless look to Ginny and mouthed something in effect of "I'll try to keep them under control."  She didn't look too sure of herself, though.

            Ginny threw a pillow at Ron and, fuming, stormed up the stairs to her dormitory.  She _had_ been going to turn the ruddy thing down.  Ron just _had_ to get her riled up to the point of saying things she didn't mean.  And now she _had to go and face Malfoy for a night._

            In defeat, she collapsed on her bed.  "Ruddy brilliant," she said to the empty room.  "I'm falling from a flaming evil git from hell and my brother wants to kill us both.  And it'll never happen.  And I hate him!  And I hate Ron!  And I hate… hate!"  She stuffed her face into the pillow, realizing she wasn't making sense and, what was worse, had nearly been yelling.  Knowing her luck, Lavender or Parvati or someone might hear, and it would be all over the school within twenty minutes.  At which point Draco would realize she wasn't as immune to him as she had put out, and would probably corner her in a dark hallway and… she should _not be fantasizing right now!!!_

            Her scream of rage was only slightly muffled by the pillow.


	11. Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer

~*Every Other Time*~

Chapter Eleven: Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer

Dove: This chapter is super-long, due to the fact that I feel bad for putting this story on the back burner while working on my NaNoWriMo (which I finished, incidentally).  Also, because it has so much fanservice of so many different types that it needed extra pages.  Oh, and finally because you will love it and worship us and want to hug Draco.  Yes, yes indeed.  Oh, and the ridiculous chapter/song title _will come clear._

Thalia: Jingly hat Trevor makes an appearance in this chapter, as does Ginny giving a lap dance, and Kevin serenading everyone. You will enjoy, and your Christmas will be happy after reading this. If I say any more, I will spoil it. Just read on. Go. Now.

Disclaimer: We own the insanity that the characters evince, but that's about it.

_"Grandma got run over by a reindeer_

_Walking home from our house Christmas Eve.___

_You can say there's no such thing as Santa,_

_But as for me and Grandpa, we believe._

_She'd been drinkin' too much eggnog,_

_And we'd begged her not to go._

_But she'd left her medication,_

_So she stumbled out the door into the snow…"_

            Getting the names of the people who were invited was a trivial task. A brief word promising much amusement to all persons present with Draco Malfoy as the source of entertainment, and Pansy willingly handed him the list. Warrington noticed the inclusion of Ginny Weasley as the only Gryffindor invited with the exception of Neville Longbottom (who might have been invited to fill the position of caterer), and gave a slight, diabolical smirk. Now _this... should prove interesting._

            There were, however, a few things that needed to be done.

            After sending his owl, which had just returned from delivering a letter and presents home to his family, out with an order for a large quantity of the finest champagne from The Three Broomsticks, he paid his Head of House a brief visit, with a request on his lips to work on an extra-credit Potion over the holiday. After getting the required Jobberknoll feathers, white sage leave, Chervil roots and the like, he spent an afternoon in his Head Boy quarters, blithely ignoring Angelina Johnson's dubious looks as he brewed a cauldronful of potent (but legal) truth potion.

            As soon as the cork was placed into the opening of an innocuous-looking bottle of green glass (with an Unbreakable Charm) and placed upon a shelf, Warrington walked from his sanctuary in search of one rather sinister-minded Ravenclaw. It would be best, he reflected, if she did finish the little project of "making Malfoy and Weasley miserable until they realized how mutually infatuated they were" that she'd started with him.

            Not to mention, she had been avoiding him for several days. It was a disconcerting thought, the idea of her losing her courage... or interest. In all the plotting, of course.

            He found Li walking down the Charms corridor, a few wrapped packages in her arms, and cleared his throat. "A word, before you send out the explosives towards your enemies?"

            "How... Weasley-twin-ish," she shot back, gazing up at him with wide but unreadable eyes, "And what might _you want?" Perhaps, had he been less... completely mystifying and utterly incorrigible and... in short, not so much of a snarky Slytherin bastard, she'd be able to come up with a better retort. But then, if he'd been... not all that, things would be quite different in so many different ways. And various episodes, including one involving a janitor's closet, would never have occurred. _

            He watched calmly as her eyes became almost apprehensive, but continued in a light voice. "You do realize that the year is nearly over. But a certain blond twit and a certain stubborn little girl have yet to resolve their... ah... issues."

            "Yes, well..." So perhaps Ginny's little tactic of shifting the focus away from Malfoy and herself towards Warrington... and so on and so forth... had been slightly more effective than she'd thought, not that she would admit it.

            "Well, Li... if this little problem isn't solved, just think of the terrible things it would do to our records as manipulative, conniving evildoers," he stated. "Until we do work that thing out, aren't we... er... still in a truce period? The definition of which, if I recall correctly, doesn't involve you avoiding me like an army of rabid Quintaped?"

            "I don't believe we ever defined it, but I suppose you have a point."  Despite her better judgment, she somehow shifted the parcels to reach out a hand.  "I suppose we should see this through.  And, just for further record, don't judge yourself so highly that you think I need to bother avoiding you for... reasons that don't need to be discussed here.  I'm no coward."

            "That's good to hear," he replied, quirking an eyebrow and taking her hand in his. "If I find that I have been overestimating you, I would be very, very displeased that my non-benevolent nature has made such a grievous error in judgment."

***

            Mid-afternoon on Christmas Eve, Su walked into the empty library with a sweet, demure expression on her face, and approached Madam Pince.  "I have a note from Professor Flitwick," she explained.  "I'm to do some special research for him, and I'll need to have _Olde_ and Obscure Magicks_ from the Restricted section."  She smiled sweetly.  "I thought I'd get a head start."_

            Madam Pince actually smiled faintly.  She tended to favor Ravenclaws, and Su was something of a pet.  "Of course," she said, casting a cursory glance at the note and waving Su to follow her.  "Right this way."

            Ten minutes later, Madam Pince was sleeping like the dead in her office behind the Restricted section and Su was leaving the library with a triumphant smile, very proud of her ability at brewing such a very strong sleeping draught, particularly considering the fact that Potions was not her best subject.

            Terry and Kevin were sitting on the couch facing the fireplace when she entered, her eyes still gleaming and her smile still stating that the cat had dined on the proverbial canary.  Terry made a face and opened his mouth, but before he could say anything, she spoke up.  "Before you ask, no, I was not with Cassius Warrington just now, doing things illegal or otherwise.  I have, in fact, not seen him since a few days ago.  I am further pleased to inform you that I am _not_ carrying his bastard child, nor am I planning to elope with him."  She grinned.  "Oh, and I promise not to wear a dress that with a disgracefully low neckline tonight, and to refrain from mincing, fluttering my lashes, and otherwise acting like a lovesick Hufflepuff."  Terry's mouth snapped shut.  "If that will be all, Mother, I'll just head upstairs and change now."  With a gurgle of laughter, she ran up the stairs.

            Terry grimaced.  "I didn't ask her _any of that," he said sullenly._

            "Face it, mate; the girl knows you better than you do," Kevin said with a chuckle.  "Besides, I don't see what your problem with the bloke is.  I figure if anyone can handle him, it's her."

            "I just… I don't like it," Terry said shortly.  "It makes my spine crawl."

            "Two forces of great evil uniting tend to do that to everyone."

            "You're not _helping_,"

            "Yes, indeed, I am aware."

***

            Fortunately for everyone involved, the teachers had a rather lenient view on curfew on Christmas Eve; namely, they had their own parties to attend, and as long as nothing exploded, would probably not be about the school at all.  Accordingly, when the Ravenclaw contingent departed from their common room at half past nine, they did so noisily.  All of them were dressed festively, most in dress robes, except Kevin, who had decked himself out in Muggle trousers and an enormous sweater with a picture of a reindeer, which he had charmed into having a nose that lit up periodically, besides.  Lisa had laughed and added to this ensemble by stuffing a large jester's hat on his head, complete with bells jingling as he walked.

            When they got to the library, they met with Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, and Hermione Granger, who seemed to be following a rather sullen Ginny Weasley.  The doors swung open, and they beheld Neville perched precariously on a chair, hanging streamers under Pansy's direction.  The girl turned her head, nodded an acknowledgement to Su, having clearly noted the lack of a librarian, and then turned to the Gryffindors.  "Oh, look, Longbottom," she purred.  "Your ickle friends have decided to crash the party!"

            Neville wobbled on his chair and then looked down.  "Harry!  Ron!  Hermione!  Er…"

            "Just try to get us to leave," Ron said defensively.  "You're bordering on treason already."

            Pansy only smiled.  "Now, boys, no bloodshed, please.  Since you're here anyway, we might as well let you stay.  I'm not at all sure Saint Potter wouldn't report us otherwise."  She uncovered a dish of harmless-looking cookies on a table already full of food.  The centerpiece seemed to be Trevor the toad in a jingly Santa hat.  "To the left, Longbottom," she said critically.  "That garland is crooked."

            "That's not fair!" Harry said defensively.

            "Oh, whatever," Pansy said, waving her hand absently.  "Go have some food, or otherwise find a way to shut off all that sputtering."  She grinned at them.  "It's not _poisoned."_

            Calista, who was already over at the table, shot a very amused look from behind her glasses.  "I'd take advantage of the unseasonable Slytherin hospitality," she said.  "They're good cookies."

            Even as the Ravenclaws and the Gryffindors met each other at the library, the Slytherins were, as a collective group, making their way down the corridor towards the library as well, all in dress robes. Though none of them looked nearly as festive as Kevin Entwhistle, Draco's rather exaggerated pout somewhat made up for the lack of decorations hanging on his person.

             "If you don't watch out, your face might stay that way forever, you know," Emma told him in a kindly voice, "and then the girl you want will think you're an ill-tempered grouch (which you are, although you _should_ be convincing her otherwise), while others like Millicent Bulstrode might take it as a pucker up and attack you."

            This helpful piece of information did not do much to make Draco put on a pleasant expression, though now he was glaring rather than pouting. "Now, now, Malfoy..." said Warrington, who was at the lead of the Slytherin contingent and carrying drinks in a bag tucked under one arm. "Pansy might take it into her head to throw you out. Do attempt to smile or something. They wouldn't know what to _think."_

            Malfoy might have been about to reply, when footsteps coming from the opposite direction reached their ears, and the group as a whole tensed slightly. But it wasn't Filch or one of the other staff members. Seamus Finnigan, balancing a pie in one hand, appeared around a corner, and looked up just in time to see a group of Slytherins bearing down upon him. Emma was smirking at him.

            "What are _you _doing here?" Draco turned his unkind scowl towards the Gryffindor, the one who seemed friends with... with _her. "A bit far from your common room, aren't you?"_

            "And you lot aren't?" Seamus scowled back, but Susannah cleared her throat.

            "Not now, Malfoy. He has a pie." The blonde girl flicked an imaginary piece of lint off one sheer white sleeve, "Do you _realize_ how hard it is to remove that from silk?"

            "Besides," Emma stepped forward, giving Seamus a slight grin that bore no malevolence, "we can bring him with us. And his pie. You're willing to follow us, aren't you?" Guileless, sparkling blue eyes stared up through a veil of long, dark eyelashes at Seamus' face, even as she reached over and gave his sleeve a light tug.

            "I... don't quite have a choice, do I?" Seamus asked rhetorically, not really resisting when Emma pulled him over to join their group, sidling rather closer to her and avoiding both the abominable types like Malfoy and the scary ones like Susannah.

            "Smart boy," Emma chuckled. "Pansy will be glad to have you if you brought food, I'm sure."

            They reached the library a few moments later, rather quietly, all things considered. Draco had resumed pouting (now that Emma seemed to have found something else to do aside from picking on him, the little wench). 

            "I wonder how many people showed up," Blaise mused idly when he pushed open the door and peered inside. "I know that a few Ravenclaws were invited."

            Warrington, walking in and setting the drinks down upon the table, took one look at the outraged faces of certain Gryffindors (one certainly a fake look of outrage, with a blush), and turned back to his housemates (and Seamus). "Well then, certain people showed who might not have been invited. But the more, the merrier."

            "You mean the more chaotic," Montague pointed out. "Lord but I'm glad I have my wand."

            "Same thing, really," Warrington smirked. "Why hello, everyone. Hope I haven't missed out on anything too heinous."

            On Draco's part, there was a great deal of discomfort. How dare she… beautiful terrible innocent little Gryffindor… wear those robes the color of old gold that made her eyes glow like two gold coins? How dare she smile at Potter, and run her elegant fingers through that long, curly, glorious mass of curls the color of fire? How dare she stand there, so damn perfect that he was ready to howl and- 

             "Try muttering a little softer, Malfoy," Su said, coming up behind him. "I can hear you. I daresay so can a few other people." She grinned and smoothed her hands down the front of her red silk Chinese dress. True to her word to Terry, it had a high Mandarin collar. It also had slits very nearly to her waist, but the way she figured it, she had not promised anything about that. 

            He scowled at her. She smiled winningly. "You might try getting plastered. They say it helps with problems of the heart. Though as your problem seems to be a little baser than that, a cold shower might suffice." 

             "Stuff it, Li," he suggested. But, as she had hoped, he ambled over to where Warrington was setting out the champagne. "Dom Perignon," he said with approval. "That'll do. Get me a glass." 

             "I could say something about good little gentlemen saying 'please'," Warrington said with amusement. Still, he picked up a marked bottle, poured a full glass of the sparkling liquid, and handed it to Draco. The boy scowled, muttered his thanks and withdrew to a corner to curse Pansy, Warrington, Li, and most of all Weaslette. 

            The drinks were drawing people like flies to honey. Su was the last in line. She regarded him, very blank-faced, and had the satisfaction of seeing him, for just a moment, look over her dress in surprise and… approval. He began to pour her a glass. "No, I don't think so, thank you," she said with slight amusement. "I can't guarantee my behaviour if I trust you with my drink. Thanks all the same."

            He nodded, acknowledging the opinion. "I respect that you don't trust me." 

            She smiled more, and her eyes glittered, and for a moment he was reminded of the time she had pushed him down and kissed him, making him breathless and confused. He wasn't at all sure he liked this feeling. "Thank you," she said, nodding. 

***

            An hour later, the greater part of the party was very much inebriated, and Su decided to throw a curve ball. After all, at the moment, those gathered were mostly arrayed by house and behaving quite decently, except perhaps for the exception of Pansy Parkinson, who had flopped herself down in a blushing Neville's lap. After a moment of thought, she got up on a table to be taller. "I think some entertainment is in order, for the bettering of inter-house relations," she began in her smooth, soft voice. "There's a game, called truth or dare. Muggle children play it all the time… I believe it will suit our purposes perfectly." She smiled charmingly. "Who's game?" 

             "A Muggle game?" Draco said with disgust. "Please, Li." 

             "Well, _I'll_ play, if he won't," Ron said. 

            Hermione clearly thought this wasn't the best idea, obviously somewhat familiar with the game, but nodded with a sigh, prodding Harry to do the same.

             "I'll play," Ginny said shortly. She aimed an arch look at Draco.

            Not two minutes later, everyone, Draco included, had agreed to play after all. Su, still up on her table, quickly went over the rules. "Now then, I will choose… oh, say, Warrington. Truth or dare?"

            He looked up at her for a moment before his lips curved into a smirk. "Truth."

            Her expression was nearly identical to his. "Warrington, tell me, did you spike the drinks? With something… extra, as they are already alcoholic, obviously." 

            He laughed. "Of course I did. Would you have expected otherwise?" 

             "Oh fuck me," Ron said very loudly, suddenly realizing what he had agreed to. 

             "No thanks, Weasley. Not my side of the Quidditch pitch. Ask Granger. She might be amenable." Hermione blushed to the roots of her hair and glared. 

            Su hopped off the table, giggling inwardly. Oh, yes. This would be… fun. 

            Even as Ron's indignant splutterings were starting to die down, Warrington cleared his throat for attention. "As it is my turn," he addressed the group, looking around for a suitable victim before his eyes landed on a giddy-looking Kevin Entwhistle, "Entwhistle." 

            "Yessir?" the boy had just finished his second glass of champagne, and his belled hat was jingling merrily with every wobble of his head. 

            "Truth or dare?"

            "Dare!" Kevin clapped his hands like a child, and Lisa Turpin, sitting next to him, rolled her eyes slightly. Warrington grinned.

            "All right then. Serenade us with the song of your choice, while dancing on that table... not the one that Li was occupying, the other one." Something relatively innocent, but fairly amusing. The heavy artillery would be brought out after the others became a bit more plastered.

            Kevin unsteadily climbed onto the table in question, his empty goblet held up to his lips. Wiggling and flailing about like a demented merman in quicksand, the Ravenclaw started belting out, at a volume and pitch that would have made the oldest bagpipe of the Weird Sisters proud, an odd song about a grandmother being run over by a reindeer, the jingling of his jester's cap keeping time to his... music.

            "... YOU C'N SAY 'ERES NO SUCH THING'S SANTA, BUT AS F'ME AN' GRANPA WE B'LIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEVE!" Kevin wailed out the last line and fell off the table in a graceless heap at Lisa's feet, jester's cap tumbling off his head. The comical performance seemed to lighten up tensions a bit, as everyone present, even Kevin himself as Lisa pulled him up by the arm, laughed uproariously. 

            Su, still giggling slightly a few moments later, told him that it was his turn. Kevin eyed the room's occupants with a look of supreme, drunken happiness, and called out Pansy's name.

"Truth," the Slytherin girl called out, inspecting her nails as she sat daintily on Neville's lap. 

            "What're your intentions towards Longbottom?"

            Pansy gave a catlike smile and rested her head against said petrified boy's shoulder. "Aside from deflowering him before classes start again after New Year's? I'll get back to you on that... still working on the details of the plans, y'know." 

            Several then laughed at Neville's beet-red face, and Pansy did not seem at all fazed by the outrageous declaration that she had just made. "Weasley, the girl... your turn," she called out, continuing to inspect her nails.

            Ginny stiffened, then swallowed. She _knew what they would ask, _any_ of them, if she said 'truth'. "Dare."_

            Pansy's smirk was completely directed at a glowering Draco when she purred out, "A lap dance... for Warrington. Since he was so _kind as to bring us the requisite spiked drinks."_

            Ginny stared at the older Slytherin girl in horror even as Warrington started to laugh and Ron and Draco both gave simultaneous roars of rage. _"YOU CAN'T MAKE HER!" Ron bellowed out at Pansy, clenching his fist._

            Pansy raised an eyebrow, giving Ron a piercing look. "And here I was commending myself on my mercy. Could have told her to do it to Malfoy. But then, I am of the belief that indecent and lewd acts are to be done without everyone watching, and if I had named Malfoy instead, he might not be able to control himself and started unwrapping his Christmas present in public."

            More arguments and testosterone might have ensued had not Su, giggling still, held up her hand. "Well? I believe she was dared?"

            Ginny threw a glare at all present before stalking over to the Head Boy, who smirked and obligingly set his glass down on the table. "I'm all yours, Weasley," the Head Boy drawled in between chuckles, "In a completely platonic manner, of course, so that my Seeker does _not_ decide to revolt."

            Her face turning the same shade as her hair, Ginny managed to sashay around a few times, scowling all the while and avoiding Draco's eyes, before she stopped and sat down on a highly-amused Warrington's knee. "Sorry," she proclaimed in a sulky, not-sorry-at-all voice, "I can't do sexy."

            At which moment Draco Malfoy, who had drained his fourth glass, forcefully pulled the petite redhead from Warrington's lap and onto his own by her arms. Wrapping his arms around her waist and glowering at all present, he proclaimed, in a somewhat slurred but nevertheless very certain voice, _"YES YOU CAN!"_

            Ron's flying tackle had been anticipated by Hermione, who was clutching onto the back of his collar with both hands and clinging for dear life, and apparently also by Susannah Caligo. The blonde girl had her wand out in a fluid motion. "Behave, or I'll Stun you," she informed the younger boy in a melodious, pleasant voice.

            Ginny was redder than her hair.  "Stop this right this instant, Mal-ferret!" she hissed.  After a few moments of struggling she suddenly realized that not only did this look even worse, but that her bother, barely restrained by Hermione and very likely some force of nature, was ready to commit murder.  "We've discussed this," she said in a lower voice, as though that would get people to stop watching them.  "You _hate_ me.  Dammit, _stop staring!"_

            No one complied as Draco answered in a tone bordering on desperation, "I do _not hate you!  I hate the fucking idea of not hating you!  That's what I hate!  Damn it, Warrington, I'm going to _murder_ you, you evil bastard!  __There's truth potion in here!"  He threw his emptied glass on the floor._

            "Why… yes," Warrington said mildly.  "Yes, I do believe there is."

            Su kept her face straight with a supreme effort.  "How distressing," she said.

            "Damn you to hell!" was Draco's response.

            "We'll get there, by and by," Su said calmly.

            "This is _not a good time to be discussing!_" Ron exploded.  "My baby sister is being molested!"

            "Not yet," Pansy said reasonably.  "Although that does bring up a very valid point of whether this little drama will reach completion here or elsewhere.  Personally, I don't care to see it, though I would have a lovely quantity of blackmail on him, then.  Of course, I'd also be blind, so…"

            Ginny jumped up, redder yet, yanked on Malfoy's arm, and with a snippy, "Excuse us," dragged him bodily from the room amidst clapping from Kevin Entwhistle, who seemed to have quite recovered from his fall.

            "Hey!" Lisa suddenly said.  "She didn't dare anyone!"

            "I… really don't think it matters, dear," Cho said with a bit of a smile.

***

            She did not stop dragging him until they were well down the corridor.  Then she yanked him into the first empty classroom that caught her eye, shut the door with her free hand, forced him down into a chair, and stood over him, eyes blazing, the perfect image of righteous fury.  She was breathing hard from dragging his considerably greater weight all that way.  "Now. What the _hell are you on about? If I'm going to listen to you, Malfoy, you might as well try to be coherent."  She gave him a death glare.  "Drunk _and_ drugged," she muttered.  "Just bloody lovely.  Cretin.  Bastard.  Pathetic excuse for a human being."  She punctuated each of these appellations with a kick to the leg of the chair he was sitting on._

            "No more lap dancing for Warrington," Draco glowered, managing to look murderous despite the drunken, glazed look in his eyes. "No lap dances for _anyone else!_"

            Ginny threw her hands into the air, her eyes blazing. "What... What _is this? Don't you __dare try to—to order me around, Dr—Malfoy! You go around being an arse and making my life miserable and picking on all my friends, and now you're..."_

            "I'm sorry, all right?!"

            This statement was met by several long seconds of dead silence, during which Ginny had the crazy thought, for a moment, that she was seeing something akin to a full solar eclipse, as far as frequency went. "You... you..."

            "Sorry for making your life miserable," Draco muttered, "not for snogging you, not for picking on your twitty Gryffindork friends, certainly not for being an arse..."

            Ginny narrowed her eyes and reached over, a surprisingly firm hand seizing grip of his chin and forcing him to look her in the eye. "Explain yourself. Why you _do this. Why you __did all this."_

            Draco came as close as Malfoyishly possible to squirming, but truth potion was truth potion. "At first started by hating your prat brother."

            "So I'm just a means of brassing Ron off, then?" Ginny struggled to keep her voice from breaking, not knowing whether to flee the room and cry herself to sleep, give him a black eye, or perhaps both. "Well _thanks, Malfoy, that just..."_

            "Would you ruddy Gryffindors ever _listen!?_" he snarled. "Do you think I _like_ mooning over a Weasley of all people? Do you think I _like the fact that I'm apparently obsessed over a redheaded wench with half a dozen oversized prat brothers and a propensity for jumping to conclusions, former Potter fanclub, of all people?! Damn it, woman, what did you _do _to me!?"_

            She goggled at him.  "What did _I do to __you!?" she shouted.  "_Me!?_  I did _nothing!  You_ were the one who started following me and staring and cornering me by the Owlery and—and kissing me and—what did __I do!?"  She stomped away from his chair, then back.  "Bloody rich, Malfoy!  Welcome to the real world!  We have feelings around here!"  She wiped at her eyes angrily.  "You must have missed that announcement," she continued viciously.  "You can't just…" words seemed to fail her.  She took a deep breath and started again.  "I don't know why you've never been told, but it doesn't __work that way with people.  Here you sit, all righteous, thinking only about __you, and not even stopping to think that I have __feelings for you, and __I don't want them __either!"  She wiped at her eyes and shook her head.  "Just… just go and sleep off the alcohol," she said, looking at his flabbergasted face.  "I can't take this anymore."_

            "But..." Malfoy looked half hopelessly confused, half amazed, and managed to choke out, "You... have_ feelings_... for _me? WHY!?"_

            "Because I _do_, damn it!" She glared at him, abruptly turning on her heel to leave...

            Only to be almost bowled over by nearly six feet of very grabby blond male. "No, you're not going. You're staying _here_," he told her, arms tight around her struggling form. "Mine."

            "Very funny, Malf—mmph!!" her words were abruptly cut off, but by his hand, clapping over her mouth. He was staring at her with a remarkable intensity.

            "Just quiet and listen," his voice was low and raspy, "I don't know what the _hell this is, and I'm not quite sure I like it, but you're mine now and I make it such and I want you. I'm not quite sure what the deuce you did to make me think about you a scandalous amount of times per day and desire to corner you in random places... but what's happened has happened and whatever spell you cast on me, wench, I'll forgive you on the condition that you'll be _mine_ from now on."_

            Whatever demon must have possessed her to be listening to this... confession... in the first place, must have been responsible for her mutely nodding her head. And then she barely had time to see him smirk before he was kissing her, hands sliding through her hair and lips tasting like wine. Oh, she was going to hell for this...

            ...And loving every minute of it.

            It was quite a few minutes later when he lazily pulled away and gave her a drowsy look. "Your brother's going to have a coronary," he stated in a matter of fact manner.

            "Oh, he knows, kind of..." Ginny replied carelessly, a giddy smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

            He eyed her with suspicion. "Then how...? I don't think I've been hexed, poisoned, or beaten up... but why...?"

            "I blackmailed him, of course."

            "You know, you should have been in Slytherin. Green would look nice on you. And then there wouldn't _be_ your brother and Potty and them to deal with..."

            "Yes..." she conceded impishly, "but then this lovely drama wouldn't be nearly so interesting..."

            "YOU THINK THIS IS INTERESTING!?" He flailed his arms in outrage. "I DO NOT _LIKE NOT GETTING WHAT I WANT!"_

            She giggled, and touched his arm in a somewhat soothing manner, "There, there... you've got what you want. Now do stop yelling, will you?"

            He stared at her for a few long seconds, arms slowly winding back around her. "I have what I want?" he echoed, gray eyes meeting brown. "Is that right, Weaslette?"

            "Yes, yes, that's right," she gave a mock-sigh, "you do."

            "Well _good_," he smirked down at her, twisting a lock of her hair around a finger, "Because Malfoys _always_ get what they want."

            "Shut up about Malfoys, ferret, and do something else more productive with that trap."

***

            The party in the library began to dissipate shortly after Malfoy and Weasley's dynamic exit.  Mostly this was due to Hermione dragging a drunk and furious Ron out on his bum and Harry, looking clearly displeased, following after one of her infamous glares.  Seamus attempted to follow with Emma Dobbs' hand clasped firmly in his.  By the time she had explained (with a less-than-gentle bump on his head) that she was _not going back to Gryffindor with him, no matter what he said, and he had skulked off, clearly equal parts drunk and disappointed, others were getting up and making their excuses.  Cho and Zach seemed to be overlooking the transportation of Kevin, who had passed out on the floor minutes before.  Lisa and Terry followed them.  She was shaking her head but smiling.  Terry looked to be very uncomfortable leaving Su as she was, perched on a table, but he didn't seem to be able to get her to come along, so he left, defeated.  Calista and Blaise seemed to have vanished somewhere, but no one seemed in any hurry to look for them._

            Susannah shook her long hair back and stood, followed by Montague.  "I think everything's under control," she said with a small smile.  "In any case, I'm not about to go looking for Malfoy, and Zabini can take care of himself.  Are you coming, Emma?"

            "I'm coming," the girl agreed.

            Pansy pulled Neville up and sauntered towards the door with him.  "It's only fair that you clean, since I set up," she said slyly.  Yanking Neville under the doorframe, which was conveniently decorated with mistletoe, she kissed him thoroughly, then grinned at his flabbergasted face, and the amused faces of the other Slytherins and Su.  "Happy Christmas, then."  She and Neville disappeared down the hallway.  His eyes were still too wide.

            Susannah, Montague, and Emma made a much more dignified exit moments later, leaving Su and Warrington alone with the mess in the library.  Between overturned platters of cookies, crumbs everywhere, and a few spilled glasses of drinks, along with the one Ron had broken, the disaster was considerable.  "Just like her to get someone else to do the dirty work," Warrington remarked.  Still, he began pointing his wand at random piles which began to quickly pick themselves up from the floor and vanish.

            Su looked around the room.  She couldn't help herself; a bright, shining smile appeared on her face.  "We _did_ it," she said very softly, and turned to beam at Warrington.  "By Merlin, we actually _did it."_

            He smirked at her.  "You sound as though you were doubting our abilities," he said.  "They'll probably send us Howlers in the morning, though, once he's sober enough to realize I drugged him."

            Su giggled.  "I don't care," she said.  "Let me revel in this victory for the moment, will you?"  On impulse, she launched herself at him and hugged him around the waist, giggling harder when he stiffened in surprise.  "We did it we did it we did it!" she exclaimed.  "Show some excitement!  It's Christmas and we _did _ it!"

            All right, so he wasn't quite expecting to have his arms full of red-clad, giggling hellion, but hey, whatever works, and he wasn't about to object. Chuckling slightly and reaching up to ruffle her hair for a moment before hugging back, he smirked down at her face. "Well this is somewhat new. I didn't put any Alihotsy into the drinks, I swear."

            "You forget," she interrupted, her voice a bit breathless and her eyes glinting, "I didn't drink any."

            "Oh, right, how could I? You're naturally mad... but it's all right. Can't complain when girls are jumping all over me, can I?"

            Normally this would incite some sort of acerbic response, of course, but perhaps things were... different. In any case, Su grinned up at him for a brief moment before reaching out a hand and tugging on his tie until he had to bend his head. Lightning-quick, her lips brushed against his cheek. Backing away a moment later, she chirped a "Happy Christmas!" before making her cheerful way out of the library, a spring in her step.

            He stared bemusedly after her back for a few seconds, then wryly shook his head. That made two times she'd kissed him, even if this was on the cheek.

            Really, if she were ever to make another attempt, he would have to do something about it. Drastic measures.


	12. Mad Season

~*Every Other Time*~

Chapter Twelve: Mad Season

Thalia: Yes, there is Warrington/Li action in this chapter. Oh, and Howlers. Fun and happy Howlers. And we wonder at Warrington's sheer audacity in the face of the demon that is an outraged!McGonagall. Nevertheless, very fun.

Dove: We spent so long building up sexual tension, and then we go and resolve it!!!  Silly us.  But at the very least, there is a spectacle.  We couldn't let it end without a spectacle.

Disclaimer: If by the end of this chapter it is not COMPLETELY apparent who REALLY owns Cassius Warrington, I suggest you read the fic over again.

_"I feel stupid, but it's something that comes and goes._

_I've been changin'; think it's funny how now one knows._

_We don't talk about the little things that we do without_

_When that whole mad season comes around.___

_So why you gotta stand there_

_Looking like the answer now?_

_It seems to me you'd come around._

_I need you now;_

_Do you think you can cope?_

_You figured me out..."_

-"Mad Season", Matchbox Twenty

            Though several of them had consumed significant amounts of champagne last night at the collective hilarity that was the party, not all of the Gryffindors were worshipping the porcelain toilet gods on Christmas morning. 

            Thankfully, though, Ron _was in the loo retching and moaning about evil Slytherins, spiked drinks and the unmerciful light _("WOULD SOMEONE PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF MERLIN MAKE IT DARK!?"_) when Ginny curiously reached for a small box wrapped in rustling dark green paper and unwrapped the present. The small redhead's mouth dropped open a moment later, as emerald earrings winked up at her like two green starts against a backdrop of black velvet._

            Hermione Granger, looking rather put-out as she trudged down the staircase in a fuzzy blue bathrobe and slippers, approached the younger girl. "Honestly," she huffed slightly, "if only he'd stop yelling for a minute, I have Hangover potion brewed and ready to go... Ginny, what's that?"

            Ginny wordlessly held out the earrings, finer than any she'd ever seen, for the Prefect's inspection. Hermione stared as the jewels seemed to wink impertinently back up at her. "Ginny... is that from..."

            Ginny nodded wordlessly, now holding out a small, engraved sheet of parchment. "Gryffindork colours do not become you."

            Hermione, her brow furrowed and biting her lip, cast dark detection spells upon the earrings, the note, the wrapping paper and the box, but everything came out negative. Finally, she raised her eyes to look at Ginny again.

            "Er... congratulations and good luck not getting trampled by half a dozen murder-minded brothers?"

            "Thanks," Ginny said dryly, before a quiet gasp turned her attention. Neville Longbottom was sitting a short distance away holding what appeared to be a painting of a bucolic, sunlit garden in his hands. His face was rapidly turning the same shade as the deep red roses in the picture.

            "What's the matter, Neville?" Hermione asked curiously. "Oh, how nice. Someone gave you art for Christmas. That's a lovely picture of a garden there."

            Neville gave a little squeak, still staring at the picture. Garden? _What_ garden? All _he could see was a very cunningly developed wizarding photo of Pansy, giving him smouldering looks as she walked back and forth in dangerous high heels and a skirt so tiny that it could have passed for a bandage. And then he turned it over to see her writing scribbled on the back of the frame._

            "An intensely personal experience for the obedient one. Regards."

            So they couldn't see what he could see. Neville slowly turned the picture over again, and saw photographic Pansy shooting him a wink.

            The temperature of the room just shot up about ten degrees.

***

            Surprisingly or not, the Slytherins were up and about fairly early on Christmas morning, most of them.

            Cassius Warrington left his personal Head Boy quarters quite early and entered the Slytherin Common Room, a rather triumphant expression on his face over last night's success. The expression changed slightly when he saw Montague and Susannah, the latter with her head resting in the former's lap, asleep on one of the long couches. Raising an eyebrow, Cassius walked over and shook his teammate awake, not quite gently.

            Montague's eyes snapped open. "Nothing happened; we were waiting to see when Malfoy would return."

            "I realize that nothing has happened," Cassius replied, glancing at his still-sleeping cousin, "from the fact that she's still in her dress robes. And of course also the fact that I do have enough faith in you to believe that you wouldn't do such a blatantly death-seeking thing as to shag my cousin some place where I could easily walk in upon it." He smirked in a genial manner at his teammate, "So, when _did_ our besotted Seeker make his grand appearance?"

            "Around three in the morning," Montague remarked, shifting slightly to stretch his arms. "Give or take fifteen minutes."

            "Excellent," Cassius smirked. "Well, that's one problem solved, at least."

            "And where were _you_ last night?" Montague asked, smirking slightly.

            "Cleaning up the mess everyone left in the library and gloating over the success of the venture, why do you ask?" Warrington replied casually.

            "No reason whatsoever," Montague replied quickly, giving Susannah a gentle shake. "I suppose it's breakfast time."

            "Indeed it is," Blaise Zabini, who seemed to have caught the last comment, remarked as he entered the common room from the direction of the boys' dormitories. "For those of us who aren't green in the face with a hangover, anyway. I don' think Draco will be leaving the loo for another two hours."

            "How sad," Warrington sniggered. "I won't receive the requisite Howler from him 'til afternoon, then."

***

            It was nearing dinnertime when Warrington, coming from the direction of the Slytherin dungeons, saw Su Li approaching from a different direction towards the Great Hall. Quickening his footsteps slightly, he walked towards her, a slight smirk playing at the corners of his lips at how she looked as though she hadn't just participated in a several-months-long evil plot.

            "And how is young Mr. Entwhistle recovering from the serenade last night?" he asked her casually. "Not too green in the face, I hope."

            Su gave a dismissive little shrug. "Kevin's all right. What about Malfoy?"

            "Presumably working on his public acknowledgement of our gracious help," he answered with a smirk. "Which I shall look forward to, immensely."

            She laughed lightly, unconsciously shifting the parcel in her arm a bit. All right, so it wasn't _abnormal_ to...

             He noticed it at the same moment, and raised his eyebrows at her. "Well well, Li, how kind of you. I don't know if I should be suspicious or flattered."

            "Both," she replied quickly, holding out the package unceremoniously towards him. "I figured that you might need it."

            Curiously, he took it from her hands, and pulled away the wrapping paper to see...

            "Evil for Dummies."

            She was looking up at him with twinkling eyes. "Well, you're no Ravenclaw, so..."

            "Precisely," he smirked down at her, reaching out and patting her head. "I'm a Slytherin. Why learn evil from books when we're gifted naturally?" She rolled her eyes, and he chuckled lightly. "But thank you."

            "Civility from you, Warrington? I'm shocked," she retorted.

            "Excellent to hear," he reached into a pocket of his robes and held out a package, significantly smaller than hers had been. "Additional shock is on the way."

            She cautiously took the box from him. It was unwrapped, plain black, and he watched her expectantly as she peeled the cover off. Slowly, she started to smile, then snicker. "You want me to wear something that is for all intents and purposes incriminating evidence?"

            "It's just a cloak pin," he grinned, "I figure that you wouldn't wear it unless you were going outside, and Filch doesn't venture out much. Not to mention, what's so unusual about a blue cat?"

            "The fact that there is one walking around the school, the colour of which _you_ were responsible for," she replied. "And obviously regarding said criminal act, you're trying to pin it on me."

            "I hope that pun was not intended," he remarked blandly, "and I believe it's dinnertime."

            "You hungry?"

            "Expecting a public acknowledgement from Malfoy," he reminded her. "So I'm off. Will you come?"

            She nodded agreeably and pinned the blue cat on her robes before following him to the Great Hall.

***

            Warrington had left her at the Ravenclaw table and continued on the way towards the Slytherin table in reasonably high spirits.

            He had barely sat down next to Susannah before a bright red envelope fell onto his plate. Even as his cousin shook her head and edged away, the Head Boy gave an exaggerated nod of thanks to his Seeker, before tearing the envelope open with a relish.

            The indignant and irate voice of Draco Malfoy, magnified several times in volume, roared out in the middle of the Great Hall as every pair of eyes turned to watch in fascination. _"Cassius Warrington, I am going to KILL you!! How DARE you spike my drink with truth potion!? Do you WANT to make a fool of me in front of... of the GRYFFINDORKS!? And furthermore, if that wasn't enough to warrant instantaneous dispensation of death, YOU LET HER LAP DANCE YOU!!! HOW DARE YOU DO SUCH A THING!? HAVE YOU NO SENSE OF DECENCY!? MINE, DAMMIT, MINE!!!! GO EAT A MANTICORE!! Or better yet, go get EATEN by a MANTICORE!! How DARE you interfere with my personal life anyway? It's none of your BUSINESS..."_ the Howler trailed off for a moment, and Warrington poked at it expectantly, well aware of everyone's gaze fixed upon the Slytherin table in general and him in particular. Finally, just before the red envelope sputtered into ashes, a somewhat softer, _"...as disgusting as it is for me to say this... thanks."_

            "I should take a bow, I really should," the Head Boy mused aloud, before turning to Draco with a smirk. "You forgot the 'you completely evil, demonic bastard, how dare you plot to lock me in a room with her that time' bit."

            "I helped with that!" Su called from across the room.  "And how come I don't get one?  I'm _hurt!_"

            "Malfoy," Warrington said dismissively, "go glare at Li and make her feel better, will you? That's a good boy..."

            The silence continued.  Due to the fact that this was Christmas dinner, the house tables were mostly empty, but the Head Table was full, and Professor McGonagall looked on the verge of an apoplectic fit.  "_Mister_ Warrington," she began, "And _Mister_ Malfoy, just because you may have some entirely _false assumptions as to your own import-"_

            Before she could continue to make her displeasure known, another Howler came fluttering down onto Warrington's plate, and then another red envelope landed on Su's.  This one deigned to explode before she could reach for it, and Warrington's started to smoke a moment thereafter, so in the end, very little was comprehensible, other than the equally magnified furious voices of Ronald and Virginia Weasley.  About the only words that were easy to understand were the ones shouted in a particular fury; therefore, the school was spared much more than: _"MY INNOCENT LITTLE SISTER!", "VILE, CHEATING BASTARD!", "SICK, CONNIVING WITCH!" _and a chorus at the end of, _"…ALL YOUR FAULT!!!  HOW DARE YOU!?!?!?!?!?!?"_  This was all followed by an "_I'll thank you when I can trust myself not to murder you," in Ginny's voice before both envelopes exploded in a shower of sparks, leaving the room silent._

            "Well, at least you didn't leave me out this time," Su said, clearly satisfied.

            _"Miss Li!"_

            "I'd like to point out, Professor McGonagall, that _I_ did not send these Howlers, and therefore, should not be held accountable, no matter how appealing that seems just now," Su said with an angelic little smile.

            Before Professor McGonagall could retort to this particularly galling bit of impertinence, Dumbledore stood up, smiling beatifically, and said, "It _is Christmas, Minerva.  Let the children have a little fun."_

            "Looks to me like they are having more than a little," someone at the staff table pointed out into their napkin.  Nonetheless, McGonagall glared into her plate and said nothing as the first course was served.

***

            Halfway through dinner, Pansy Parkinson got a marvelous idea.  Neville could tell by the way her eyes suddenly lit up, and wasn't entirely sure whether to be excited or terrified.  He opted for excited, seeing as he was already at the Slytherin table and no one had killed him yet; nothing could be much worse than this.  "You look like you're planning something," he remarked to Pansy.

            She rewarded him with a sugary smile.  "Nothing but a little… entertainment for us all," she said warmly.

            Neville thought privately that they had all been quite entertained enough, but did not voice this idea.  "Entertainment of what sort?  Or do I not want to know?"

            Pansy's smile turned feline.  "I think Miss Li is _far_ too serious for her own good," she said, pulling out her wand.  "There's an interesting little spell used to lower inhibitions…"

***

Kevin Entwhistle filled a goblet with pumpkin juice, stole a glance at Su, who was not paying attention and laughing at something with Padma, sprinkled a little powder from a packet hidden in his sleeve into the goblet, put on his friendliest smile, and passed it to Su.  She thanked him and took the glass absently.

            "Do I want to know?" Lisa asked him in a whisper.

            He only grinned.  "Probably not."

***

            At the Gryffindor table, Ginny had an ancient-looking spellbook open under the table, and was apparently lost in thought.  Her fork had gone to her plate and back to her mouth-empty-at least three times.  "What are you doing?" Ron asked her curiously.  "That Malfoy git is staring at you."  He did not sound pleased.

            "He's free to stare as he likes," Ginny said absently.  "I'll be going over to the Slytherin table here in a few moments, but I thought I'd wait until after… I don't want to get my nice robes dirty."

            "Wait until after what?" Hermione asked from Ron's other side.  "Are you going to do something… entirely against the rules and bordering on illegal again?"

            "No more than usual, I assure you," Ginny said with a suppressed laugh.  Her eyes lit up.  "Ah, here it is.  Stop grumbling about my boyfriend for a minute, will you, Ronald?  I doubt sincerely any of us want this to go wrong."  She pulled out her wand under the table, aimed it at the Ravenclaw table, and began chanting under her breath.

***

            Su had just finished reassuring Padma that nothing was wrong, nothing at _all_, when she felt something warm hit her in the back, a slightly dizzy feeling entering her body. Frowning slightly and looking around in the direction of the Slytherin table, where she was fairly sure it came from, she saw nothing out of the ordinary... that is to say, several were smirking at her, it could have been anyone... anything... and Warrington, damn the man, seemed oblivious as he was clearing the ashes from the Howlers off his plate.

            "Are you all right?" Kevin Entwhistle's voice was all too innocent as he pushed her goblet into her hands. Perhaps had she not been trying to figure out what was going on, she might have noticed that highly indicative fact.

"Yes," she took a sip of the pumpkin juice, her eyes glazing over slightly as she swallowed, "I'm... perfectly fine."

Even as Kevin started to grin, Su felt another tingling sensation, this one hitting her straight in the chest. At the Gryffindor table, a very satisfied Ginny, the smirk on her face (evidently a present from a particular ferretly scum) making Ron twitch in his seat, put her wand back in her pocket.

            Cassius Warrington was, in fact, just about to reach for a roll from a basket in front of him when he noticed Su, a wide-eyed, fixed expression on her face, stalking towards the Slytherin table... towards him, in fact. His hand halted on its way towards the roll as she reached the table, and he was just about to make a clever comment about deigning to grace their house with her malevolent presence when she abruptly pushed his plate and goblet onto the lap of a nearby Tracey Davis, and before said Slytherin girl could even shriek in outrage, seated herself on the table directly in front of him.

            "Oy, what's this about, then?" he started to ask, noticing vaguely that his hands, still resting on the tabletop, were millimeters away from her waist. "As intriguing as the idea of cannibalism is, I'm not about to eat you... without chocolate sauce, in any case."

            "You have a very depraved, twisted mind," Su murmured, and Warrington almost stared. The usually-angelic little voice was low, husky, almost sultry, but before he could make an answer to her declaration, she had slid forward, wrapped her arms around his neck, and pressed her lips firmly against his, her eyes falling shut as she kissed him, this time most certainly not in the dark.

            And this time, perhaps he was prepared for it, because a moment later, his hands had curved around her waist, quite unceremoniously pulling her into his lap, and he angled his head slightly, lips parting hers as he kissed back, one hand rising from her back to cup the nape of her neck, pulling her closer as they continued to kiss.

            Catcalls started sounding from each of the tables, but it was finally the outraged voice of a thoroughly scandalized Professor McGonagall that made them pull apart, Su opening her eyes a bit drowsily, her hands still resting on his shoulders.

            "_Detention_, Miss Li," the horrorstruck Transfiguration professor was shouting, "and Mr. Warrington as well! This... what is the meaning of this horrendous display?!"

            "Sexual tension being resolved," Pansy whispered throatily into a transfixed Neville's ear. "She should _know_ that."

            Warrington, however, despite having his arms quite full of soft, warm Ravenclaw demon, was giving the Deputy Headmistress a despicably innocent look. "Why am I to get detention, Professor? _She_ attacked _me. I am but an innocent victim."_

            "A _victim," McGonagall started scathingly, "would have resisted such an attack. Or in the very least, come up for air!"_

            "Oh." Warrington thought for a moment, "Then do we get to serve detention together?"

            "NO."

            "Why not?" Only a Slytherin, and not even _all Slytherins, would have the gall to ask such a thing._

            "Because," McGonagall looked about to smoke at the ears, "it is my _firm belief that a gentleman should court his lady some other time and place than in public at this school!"_

            At that, Warrington started to smirk, chuckling lightly. "We'll keep that in mind, ma'am, for the unlikely day that we actually become a gentleman and a lady, respectively."

            "Eight o'clock, the main hall," McGonagall scowled darkly, looking quite put-out at the obvious lack of repentance from both the Head Boy and the Prefect.

            Warrington snapped the professor a jaunty salute, before turning towards the girl still comfortably ensconced in his lap, one eyebrow raised.

            For her part, Su was slowly turning a deeper and deeper shade of rose, and hating it.  She would _never have behaved that way of her own accord!  Fun as it may have been at the time, and lightning-fast as her heart was beating now… Feeling Warrington's scrutiny, she felt she needed to say something.  "I was hexed, you know," was what she came up with.  "By several people, actually."  He kept looking at her.  "That's why I…" she trailed off.  She felt more than a little self-conscious now that the spells had worn off.  It took all she had to keep a smile on her face and her cheeks a suitably pale pink instead of the crimson they should have been.  "I'm the color of a tomato, aren't I?"_

His smarmy grin changed not a trifle, damn him, but he did reach a hand to ruffle her hair.  "Looking for someone to blame?"

            "Oh no," she responded promptly, though her cheeks were still hot.  "I would have gotten around to it myself, by and by.  Perhaps not in the Great Hall, however."  However nice the results it had yielded might have been… "Now I have detention.  I've a feeling I'm going to need to send some Howlers of my own… been a while since I've had an excuse to scream."

            "Will you stop it with the veiledly sexual comments?  And are you _ever going to move?" Tracey Davis whined, finally out of her shock-induced trance and wiping futilely at her robes.  "Some of us are trying to eat."_

            "Why don't you get the food off your robes before trying to put any more in your mouth?" Su said with a laugh.  "And no, I'm not planning on moving until McGonagall pulls me off by the ear.  Maybe not then."

            He chuckled slightly, and moved her easily in his lap so that she was sitting with her back to his chest rather than facing him. "It's easier to eat this way," he told her. "Susannah, please pass us the rolls?"

            "Your mum," Susannah started, making a concerted effort not to laugh at him as she passed over the basket, "is going to be horrified."

            "No she's not," Warrington answered her complacently. "She's a Slytherin too."

            "I meant to say," Susannah continued sweetly, smirking at Su for a moment before turning back to Cassius, "she won't know what to do with her grandchildren. They'll be terrors."

            Su's eyes widened, but Cassius seemed unfazed. "At least they'll be interesting terrors. And you're scaring our visitor."

            "I don't think Li is scared that easily," Susannah grinned.

            "Never said anything about Li," Warrington handed Su a roll before taking one for himself, "but Longbottom over there is about to faint in Pansy's lap."


	13. Dizzy

**Every Other Time**

**Chapter Thirteen: Dizzy**

* * *

Dove: Omigod… can't believe it's over… well, epilogue, but… yes… God. I want to hug them, except I'd be scared to go looking for them. Who knows what and where they're using to… amuse themselves? Surely Filch can't watch _all_ the broom closets at once…

Thalia: See what a monster has sprung out of a bit of fun RPG speculation! Not to mention all the ships that snow-balled into life from various... random places in ours and others' heads! At least it has been quite the entertaining monster if I say so myself. I hope you've enjoyed it as much as we have. Look forward to a happy fun epilogue soon-ish!

Disclaimer: McGonagall can keep her prude outlook, and Filch can keep his paranoia. We don't want them anyway.

* * *

_"You're cynical and beautiful  
__You always make a scene  
__You're monochrome delirious  
__You're nothing that you seem  
__I'm drownin' in your vanity  
__Your laugh is a disease  
__You're dirty and you're sweet  
__You know you're everything to me…  
__Everything you are  
__Falls from the sky like a star  
__Everything you are  
__Whatever ever you are..."_

-Goo Goo Dolls, "Dizzy"

* * *

Cassius Warrington punctually arrived in the main hallway at eight o'clock, a studiously serious expression on his face. There was absolutely no hint of any of his thoughts, or any sign indicating that underhanded machinations had taken place before he'd arrived.

Argus Filch and his cerulean feline were both waiting quite grouchily as he arrived, and the caretaker muttered something about waiting for the other culprit before doling out duties. Cassius merely nodded, and leaned against the wall as quick footsteps sounded down the hallway, signaling the arrival of Su Li.

She, too, was decorous at the moment, merely giving him a slight nod before turning towards Filch with angelic expression in place. "Where are we to go, Mr. Filch?"

"You," he jerked his thumb at Warrington, "Clean the desks in the history of magic classroom. All the brats doodling on them in class... and before you ask, _WITHOUT MAGIC!"_

"Of course," Warrington replied blandly. "What's the fun in things unless there are rags and buckets of Mrs. Scower's?"

Filch glared at the Slytherin, but Warrington kept his face blank. Su politely asked what she was to do.

"Trophy room," Filch instructed curtly, "_All_ of them, girl. _Also_ without magic."

"What he said," Su murmured, before catching the rag that Filch all-but threw at her, and picking up a bottle of metal polish. Giving all and sundry (but especially the blue cat) a sweet smile, she walked off.

Warrington walked away down the hall to the history of magic classroom, and busily started scrubbing at a caricature of none other than Percy Weasley (no one else had that precise combination of glasses, freckles and prissy expression) with an enormous head, initials 'F. W.' scribbled in the corner. Filch watched for a few moments like a suspicious jailer, before slamming the door shut behind him to check on Su.

As soon as the caretaker's footsteps died down the hallway, though, Warrington abruptly stopped what he was doing to stand by the door, almost as though waiting for a signal.

About five minutes later, there was the sound of an explosion from far away, and a distant cry of rage. The Head Boy smirked, and quite unconcernedly took out his wand.

The desks were spotless in another five minutes, and half the container of Mrs. Scower's magicked away. Never let it be said that Slytherins were not thorough.

As it happened to be, Peeves, for some indiscernible reason or another, had decided to replace a few of the candles in a chandelier not far from the Astronomy tower with fireworks. This brilliant and anticlimactic explosion was followed by a barrage of water balloons, and in the trophy room, Su jumped back as a plaque fell from the wall from the explosion.

She was just picking it up and wiping the dust from the floor off the shiny surface when the door opened to reveal a smirking Warrington, who looked quite unaffected by the enormous boom and in fact, rather pleased with himself.

Taking a glance at what she held in her hand, he chuckled lightly. "Polishing a Slytherin plaque, I see."

"It's been fifteen minutes, if that," Su said flatly by way of a response. "Don't _tell_ me you're done already."

"I'm just that skilled," he replied complacently, before looking at the plaque. "You missed a spot." Taking out his wand and muttering a spell, the surface was immaculate, and he grinned at her. "No one said anything about _me_ using magic on these things."

"Who did yours, then?" she asked, setting the now-sparkling plaque back in place. "And what if Filch comes back?"

"He's otherwise occupied, and likely to stay so for a good portion of the next hour," Warrington said, rather glad he had arranged it. "No one wants to spend Christmas in detention. Besides, I would think skiving off of detention would be nothing after your… performance earlier this evening." She managed not to blush this time. "Yes, well, then again, you seem to have made rather a habit of attacking me. Doing so in public seemed a reasonable next step."

She grinned. "I notice you're not complaining too much."

"It's rare I find someone as… similar-minded as you," he said nonchalantly. "I may just keep you after all, little girl." Her grin became wider.

"I may just let you, you swarthy git." She stood up on her tiptoes to kiss him, he leaned down obligingly, and there was silence for a few moments.

"Now that _that_ is settled," he said finally, "are you coming or not?"

"Coming where?" she asked.

"Certainly not the Astronomy Tower," he replied promptly. "Does it matter? Away from the odor of silver polish, which isn't at all pleasing." She wrinkled her nose in agreement with him. "Well?"

She grabbed his hand in her own. "Of course I'm coming." As they left the room, she muttered, "Honestly, kids these days… it's _cold_ in the Astronomy Tower in December."

* * *

Surprisingly enough, nothing particularly shocking happened in the school for the rest of the year, barring perhaps the simultaneous Howlers from Lucius Malfoy and Molly Weasley. Curiously, the words of thesehad beenso eerily alike it had almost seemed like the same personhad writtenthem, so both of the recipients had a laugh about it once they had exploded, although Ginny's face was rather white and Draco's rather green. After the splashy spread in the Prophet (rather expected) there was no word, at least publicly, about the scandal that they had created. While they looked worried more often than not, they also walked the corridors hand in hand, and Ginny began violating the uniform by wearing a Slytherin tie about half the time.

Other changes occurred, these more peaceful in the wake of this explosion. Nothing that could be pinned down perhaps, but the younger Slytherins seemed slightly less likely to snap at those of other houses and the youngsters from elsewhere were less likely to exclude the Slytherins from their games, and while this change was small and gradual, Dumbledore certainly seemed to have noticed it. This was perhaps the reason he was so often smiling, despite the dark news that reached the school from outside the walls. This new reach towards cooperation caused Echo Hayama and Benedick Jeunet to get off only with a slight scolding when they were discovered in an empty room at four in the morning bent over a chessboard.

Winter slid into spring, the fifth years and the seventh years retreated into furious studying, then testing, and the days continued to get warmer until Defense Against the Dark Arts classes began to be held outside, and the Astronomy Tower began to be locked after dark by the now-paranoid Professor Sinistra. The Quidditch Cup was won by a tiny margin by the Ravenclaws despite the Slytherins managing to overpower them in the last game of the season. The school was treated to the spectacle of Su being yanked off of her broom by Warrington after the end of the game was called, and pulling him down to the ground with her instead of compliantly re-seating herself in front of him on his broom as he had intended. In the few moments it took McGonagall to wrest the megaphone from Lee Jordan, the school enjoyed quite an amusing tussle, which was broken up when Warrington finally pinned Su's arms (quite heedless of the screech of "DETENTION!") hauled her up on her feet, bowed, and the two of them exited in a direction unknown amidst cheers. Interestingly enough, despite the fact that Filch now watched his broom closets with an eagle eye, no one ever caught hide nor hair of these two anywhere they should not be. "Which is very likely because Cass has his own quarters, and Johnson is too busy studying to complain," Susannah was known to say with a wise nod. "At least they're discreet, I suppose." No one doubted she was right.

And before everyone knew it, the last days of school were past, and it was time to pack and board the Hogwarts Express for the trip home.

* * *

The students were all packed onto the Hogwarts Express, and though some things had certainly changed that year, Su Li was still riding with the Ravenclaw girls. She really had not gotten a chance to speak to him that day, but then again, he had been busy since last night, together with Angelina Johnson, organizing all that needed to be organized for the journey back on the train. He had looked mildly frazzled after a long meeting with Angelina and Dumbledore, and for someone who wore a habitual smirk... well.

The train came to a halt at long last, pulling into King's Cross station as the sun began to set. Su stretched her limbs slightly, and gave her friends a vague sort of smile. They hadn't discussed... what was going to happen, really, after he'd left the school.

With Cho's help, she hoisted her trunk up onto a cart, and started pushing it out of the compartment.

"Hello there, kid." She had just passed one of the compartments towards the front. He stepped out, easily levitating his own trunk and smirking (damn him for now being able to use magic outside of Hogwarts). "Why the long face? Who else didn't fall for the angel act today?"

"Shut up," she told him, glaring up into his face. He grinned.

"Are you going to move past, or stand there giving me misty-eyed looks all day?"

"You'd hate me if I did that," she remarked blandly, but moved past anyway. He idly waved his wand at her trunk with a Lightening Charm, and she easily lifted it down the steps. He followed not far behind.

"Well."

"Well?" her voice was soft as she glanced back up into his face. They really _hadn't_ discussed... things, on how it would be after... well. He was scrutinizing her, his eyes somewhat unreadable but fixed upon her face. She wondered if he were trying to make her blush or something.

Finally he reached out, brushing the side of her face with fingertips for a moment, before giving her a pat on the head and a smirk. "Well then... take care of yourself, kid. And try not to have _too_ much fun without me."

And then he was turning around and backing away and Su felt a presence behind her. A slight furrow on her brows, she turned around, to see a tall, ice-blonde girl with an unusual wry smile on her face.

"I suppose this is where you're to pounce my idiotic cousin and I make sure that no one makes obnoxious comments?"

Su grimaced slightly, though through the course of the year she had come to some sort of understanding with Susannah Caligo. "Why do _I_ always have to do the pouncing?" she asked jokingly. "I've already gotten detention for that... _twice!_"

Susannah laughed, a melodious, slightly brittle note, "Well, because he's bigger than you are and might knock you over."

"Still..."

Susannah gave her an amused look, before raising her voice to call out. "Okay, fine. Cassius Warrington, get your despicable, smarmy arse over here before I suggest that your girl go for the Entwhistle bloke!"

Warrington turned back from where he was chatting with Kevin Bole. Raising an eyebrow, he made his way back towards where his cousin and Su were standing. "You called?" his voice was bland. "Why are you taking _her_ part, Susie?"

"Because I feel sorry for her that she has to put up with you. I'm going to tell Aunt Cordelia to leave you alone for five minutes. If you're not going to make the most of that..."

"Yes, yes..." Warrington gave a dismissive wave, "I understand. Now stop harping on me, really..."

Susannah seemed satisfied with this, and walked off towards the barrier. Warrington unceremoniously pulled Su by the arm towards a nearby wall. "You're not going to go for the Entwhistle bloke," he told her mildly. She rolled her eyes.

She smirked up at him, feeling slightly giddy. "You know, I feel sorry for _myself _that I have to put up with you."

He laughed and ruffled her hair again, "Oh, come off it. I make your life so much more frustrating and you're a glutton for punishment." She pouted slightly, and he grinned. "You realize that pouting is an expression specifically and deliberately used by people as an invitation for snogging, and if you had wanted _that_, you could have just _said_ so."

"You're an evil swarthy git, and I really don't know—" But her words were cut off abruptly, because he was kissing her in earnest, lifting her slightly and warm against her and she was clinging to him almost for support. It wasn't something that she was used to... yet, but she smiled somewhat against his lips.

When he pulled away, she _was _somewhat flushed, and he smirked at her appearance, lips dewy, hair mussed. "All right, then. I suppose that's that. Try not to get into too much trouble."

He disappeared into the crowd after that, and she brushed her fingertips against her lips. Later on, when she had made it out through the barrier, she was immediately pounced upon by her mother.

She might have seen him a distance away, speaking to a man with dark hair barely flecked with gray, and a stately blonde witch. She wasn't sure as she left the station.

* * *

She didn't know if she should owl him. They hadn't made any... promises to do such a thing, and then again, the first two weeks had passed without a word from him.

She told herself fiercely that if he'd been interested in just a fling, he would have seduced her and then be done with her. And that it wouldn't even have been her, anyway, but rather someone like Tracey Davis or such.

The third week had passed, and she was just about to attempt owling _him_... just casual, to see how he was doing... when a handsome tawny owl had flown through her window rather late at night, and dropped a piece of fine parchment sealed with green wax upon her lap. The bird had given an almost-mocking hoot before flying off, as if telling her that she was being silly.

The seal opened, she started to read, a little grin spreading across her delicate face.

_"Li,_

_Hopefully you've been taking my words to heart and not having too much fun without me. I've been a bit occupied myself, though with rather monotonous things._

_I have a job now. Apparently, several people are envious, but it's been rather boring so far. Everyone's so OBEDIENT around here. But then, I didn't mind having blindly devoted minions and nothing else until you came along, evil little wench..."_

If she'd throw aside the feeling of having been very silly to worry, she would be quite happy and secure in her love.


	14. She Likes Me for Me

~*Every Other Time*~

Epilogue: She Likes Me for Me

Thalia: We're... done. *faints* Snarky  and sneaky 'til the very end. Oh God I'm going to miss this fic so much.

Dove: I feel so terrible for being a bad co-author and only writing when inspiration happened to match up with free time but… well… it took over a year, but it is done, and it is a classic.  Bow down, all ye who love us.

Disclaimer: Yes, I think we should own them too.

_"She likes me for me, not because I'm tough like Dirty Harry,_

_Make her laugh just like Jim Carey, unlike The Cable Guy,_

_But what she sees, is that I can't live without her,_

_My arms belong around her,_

_And I'm so glad I found her once again…"_

-Blessid Union of Souls, "She Likes Me for Me"

            All was not entirely well in the Li household.  While Su had managed to play the obedient daughter over Christmas holidays and somehow make her parents stop giving her Avada Kedavra looks for not making Head Girl ("But Hermione Granger's in my year!" didn't seem to be a suitable argument, to her great distress), returning home after graduation… well.  She had not dared bring up the idea of finding her own flat somewhere in London.  While her internship in the Foreign Affairs division of the Ministry of Magic, a plum position, really, would placate them to a point, she had a feeling her father would look at her over his glasses in that way he had and enquire what a young girl could possibly know about living on her own.  The retort that came to mind, namely that he only thought her so young because he wasn't around for most of her life, didn't seem quite appropriate.  Accordingly, she answered questions about her employment vaguely, saying only that she was looking into it, and spent the first few weeks of her new freedom visiting with friends, going to Quidditch games, and enjoying the small freedom of whipping out her wand whenever she felt like it without looking around covertly for someone to chastise her.

            She saw Cassius several times, though once she had to practically sneak into his building, past his drones, past the secretary she later informed him wore her skirts too short, into his office, plop down on his desk and inform him that he had been neglecting her.  While that whole escapade had had a rather pleasing outcome, it had also netted some uncomfortable questions from her mother about the state of her hair when she returned home quite late that night.  This had also been the time Su had decided she needed a flat of her own, and began stepping softly, wondering just how to broach the subject.

            Then those thoughts were blown out of her mind by something much more urgent.  "So," her father said to her at breakfast one day, "When do we meet your young man?"

            Su was so startled she dropped her spoonful of rice porridge into her lap and stared at her mother.  "My… who?" she managed.

            "You think your mother is stupid?" her mother said acidly.  Clearly unsure of her ability to get a straight answer from her daughter herself, she had resorted to dirty tactics and told her husband.

            The look on her father's face was not one that boded well for her, so Su hid her face as she wiped at the mess on her lap with a napkin.  "He… well, he… I should bring him over," she finished weakly, wondering just what kind of hell would erupt when she brought Cassius Arrogance Warrington under her parents' scrutiny.  "Soon," she added lamely.

            "He come to dinner next Sunday," her mother said decisively.

            Su didn't have to look up to know she was defeated.

***

            "Why is your face like that?" Cassius asked her when she managed to get the fireplace private.  "You look like you've swallowed something very sour."

            "My parents want you to come to dinner Sunday," Su answered, the sour look not fading for a moment.  "Please, _please_ try to be a little less…" she waved her hands in the air, clearly unable to come up with a proper adjective, and finally finished on a sigh.  "Oh, never mind.  One shouldn't ask for miracles."

            "Besides which, you would find me terribly boring if I did."  He reached his hand out of the fireplace and ruffled her hair, which had grown out and was now a respectable black once more, and brushing her shoulders.  "What time Sunday?" he asked jovially when she slapped his hand away.

            "You sound as if you're _enjoying_ this," she complained.

            "Oh, I intend to."

            "I'll just bet you do," she grumbled.

***

            Sunday evening found Su Li, dressed up in a rather pretty and (in her opinion) over-feminine blue dress, pacing a bit anxiously at the door of her parents' house. Her father had, thankfully, not asked too many questions on the identity, personality or intentions of her "young man", though the look in Qian-Wei Li's eyes promised a thorough interrogation of Cassius when he arrived.

            Perhaps not quite the lesser of the two evils, after all. But there was nothing that could be done. She was hard-pressed not to pout, and _he_ was supposed to arrive in five minutes.

            Just as she was counting to a rather nervous two hundred ninety-eight, the doorbell rang. Su would have rushed to open it had her mother, obviously expecting it, reached the doorknob before her anxious daughter. Yan-Chun Li's face was unsmiling as she pulled the door open to reveal-

            An impeccably dressed young man who was wearing a startlingly proper and non-smirking expression upon his face. Smiling at the middle-aged woman in a manner that Su deemed calculatingly charming, Cassius inclined his head and held out a hand. "Mrs. Li, I presume?" he said softly. "It is an honour to meet you at last."

            And even as he grasped Yan-Chun's hand in his right, his left held out a bouquet of fragrant white flowers. Su's unsmiling mother gave him a look of unabashed surprise. 

            "You bring jasmine?" she queried, letting go of his hand to finger the delicate blooms. Suddenly, she gave a smile. "My favourite."

            "Lucky guess, then," he replied, still wearing that infuriating smile. "My name is Cassius Warrington."

            "Of Mnemosyne, biggest supplier of pensieves in Europe?" Su's father's incredulous voice joined the conversation at that point.

            "Oh, that..." Cassius had the cunning to look unduly modest. "Yes, I do work there."

            Su remained in a numb, expressionless state of horrified shock as her boyfriend, in a genteel voice and manner rivaling that of the most placid Hufflepuff, conversed with both her parents at once. Yan-Chun bustled off soon to put the jasmine in water and take the steamed dumplings off the fire, and Cassius agreeably followed Su's father to the living room, where a discussion on business, profits and the best Arithmantic spells to calculate them started almost at once.

            _Surely_ it had to be coincidental that the great, manipulative prat could converse upon Chinese abacus spells with great ease?!

            Deciding that she would have to throttle him later, Su excused herself to go to the washroom, and though her father waved a dismissive hand at her, Cassius caught her eyes for a moment, his own glinting in amusement, as if to say that she should have expected machinations of this sort. She shot him a disdainful 'No sex for _you_; I mean it' look, which only brought another beatific smile.

            Dinner passed much in the same manner, with the arrogant, abominably smug git using chopsticks with ease ("I learnt how during a business trip we made to Beijing—lovely city. Far better food than anything offered here—that's a very nice-looking dish, Mrs. Li. Thank you for the offer of help in arranging for other business associates and ties with Asia, Mr. Li, I'll be sure to get back to you on that..."). Su remained fairly quiet and tried not to squirm.

            Finally, Mrs. Li set down the chopsticks and picked up the steaming pot of chrysanthemum tea with a satisfied smile. Filling the white porcelain cup in front of the guest, she beamed at the handsome young man. "You a good boy, Mr. Warrington."

            "Please, call me Cassius," he replied smoothly.

            "Such a mature, stabilizing influence on daughter," Yan-Chun mused happily, not to be deterred. Su made a spluttering sound that she barely hid with a series of uncomfortable coughs as she sat next to him, and if he felt the kick she aimed at his ankle, none of it showed upon his face as he helpfully thumped her back.

            "Su-Yu," Mrs. Li turned her attention towards her unusually silent daughter, her face stern, "why you not introduce him to us before today? Such a nice young man!"

            Su gritted her teeth under the galling smirk that the nice young man shot her. "I wasn't sure that you would like him," she said in a deadpan sort of voice.

            "I think that I shall enjoy my acquaintance with your parents, pet," Cassius interjected calmly. "They seem quite lovely."

            In a sentiment reminiscent of the beginning of their... interesting, if not perfectly beautiful friendship, she frantically wondered if she could get away with murdering him with the nearest pair of chopsticks, and finally deciding against it on the grounds that others might eat with said instruments later and be corrupted. Well, that, and the whole 'love' thing...

            Finally, as the sky grew dark, Cassius rose to leave, accepting many words of praise from Mrs. Li and an approving handshake from Mr. Li, both of whom told their daughter to see her mild-mannered young suitor to the door. Su unceremoniously grasped his hand and dragged him through the foyer.

            As soon as they were outside, her face contorted into a glare. "What was _that_ all about, then?"

            "What, me earning the complete adoration of your family?" H had the impertinence to smirk down at her, ruffling her hair.  "It was necessary, of course. Surely I couldn't let them come to some sort of dreadful conclusion that I was an evil, depraved, perdition-bound demon with dishonourable intentions, making off with their only child?"

            "But you _are_," she poked him in the ribs, "an evil, depraved, perdition-bound demon with dishonourable intentions."

            "Ah," he mused thoughtfully to himself for a moment, "but see, there was a purpose to all this. Now that your parents adore me because of my natural and multitudinous charms, assets and skills, you're going to have to marry me."

            "And where's the logic behind this?" she asked, her eyes glittering up at him.

            "Naturally, when even your parents have come to the understanding that I'm the best for you... a 'mature, stabilizing influence' was it, you can't have any more complaints."

            It was a minute or two before she started laughing. "You are an awful, two-faced, egocentric git," she informed him. "Although... I suppose that _is_ one of your more sterling qualities. I shall look forward to watching my mum fawn over you until you want to strangle her."

            He chuckled and pulled her close. "Your mum's a nice lady. And I shall look forward to more comments about my positive influence over you."

            "You utter pillock."

            "Why thank you, Li," he drawled, reaching down and cupping her face. Bending his head, he kissed her lips briefly before pulling away. "I love you too."


End file.
